


The Secret Voice of Hidden Love

by Yikes_Writes



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Artist Steve Harrington, Barb is a Great Friend, Barbara "Barb" Holland Lives, Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Blow Jobs, Bottom Steve Harrington, But also, Canon Compliant, Dyslexic Steve Harrington, Gay Billy Hargrove, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, I'll update tags as I continue writing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Insecure Steve Harrington, Lesbian Barbara "Barb" Holland, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Outsiders References bc I'm Obsessed w The Book AND The Movie, Panic Attacks, Poet Billy Hargrove, Smut, Soulmates, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve and Barb are BEST FRIENDS, Swimmer Steve Because It's What We Deserved, This is my first big fic!, Top Billy Hargrove, bc Billy and Neil, because that is the ONLY way i write him, but nothing is graphic, they smoke pot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:14:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23242321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yikes_Writes/pseuds/Yikes_Writes
Summary: Steve's soulmate was good with words.Billy's soulmate was a beautiful artist.-In other words, a soulmate au where whatever is drawn on one soulmate, appears on the other.Plenty of mutual pining and the Steve & Barb friendship for the ages.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Jonathan Byers & Steve Harrington & Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington & Barbara "Barb" Holland
Comments: 93
Kudos: 906
Collections: Numerous OTPS Infinite Fandoms





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saltstuck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltstuck/gifts).



> Soooo this is the first multi-chapter fic I'm posting! I have quite a lot of it written, so I'm hoping to have nice consistent uploads, although I am not yet finished and have no idea how long she's gonna get.
> 
> This fic is a gift for [@ummmm-no-thanks](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/ummmm-no-thanks) on tumblr because they are amazing. 
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr [@yikesharringrove](https://yikesharringrove.tumblr.com/)

“What is that?” Nancy’s friend (Barb?) grabbed at Steve’s arm, shoving his sleeve up, revealing the poem on his arm. Steve jerked out of her grip. He didn’t like when people shoved themselves into his business. The words and the drawings were between him and his  _ soulmate _ . He didn’t want some  _ girl _ nosing her way into them.

His parents had left town that afternoon, so he did what any self-respecting douchebag with too big a house and an overwhelming fear of being alone would do, and threw a party. Most of Hawkins High had shown up, Steve Harrington was a bit of a big deal. The rager had quieted down, only Tommy and Carol left, making out in one of the poolside loungers, and Nancy Wheeler and her friend, who’s name Steve was having a decent amount of trouble remembering at the moment.

“My, uh, soulmate, person. They write poetry, and stuff.” Nancy’s eyes went soft. She had been hanging around Steve a lot lately. He thinks she may have developed a crush, hoping Steve may be her soulmate after all, trying to get close enough to prove something. Steve liked her, thought she was sweet and pretty and smart, and all that, but he’s observant, knows what should be written where, what drawings she would have difficulty covering up in her blouse. 

“Steve, that’s so beautiful! Can we read it?” 

“Nah, Stevie never lets us read it. Never has,” Tommy piped up from a few chairs down. 

“They just write really personal stuff, and obviously they’re fine with  _ me _ seeing it, but I don’t really want to, share.” Nancy cooed, Barb (?) rolled her eyes. 

“Do you write them back?” Nancy was perched at the end of the pool lounger she was sitting on.

“No, I’m not too good with words.”

“He draws though. I once sat there, for like three hours, while he painted the entire quarry on his whole fuckin’ leg.” Tommy was laughing, holding Carol in his lap.

“God, I remember that! He was going on and on about  _ I can tell they’ve been sad lately, I just wanna do somethin’ nice _ .” Carol giggled. Steve’s face was heating up, but Nancy leaned in closer. 

“I didn’t know you were an artist.” Her eyes glowed. She didn’t seem too cut up about the revelation that Steve was  _ not _ her’s.

“I don’t do a lot of stuff, mainly just all over myself.”

“Would you mind showing me something?” She shuffled closer to him. 

“Um, sure. Whoever it is, they’re left-handed, so they do stuff on kinda like, the whole right side and I take up the left. Sometimes we’ll, like, intermingle.” He rolled up his left sleeve to show the black ink depiction he had done that afternoon. Nancy and Barb (it’s definitely Barb) leaned in to get a better look, goosebumps poking up when Nancy traced her fingers along the image. It was sketched with thin lines and she recognized it as his own kitchen. He had drawn his parents going through their morning routine, his mother pouring coffee, and his father reading the paper. “It’s from this morning before they left. They were just, being nice, I guess. They don’t usually get along like that, it was just, quiet and my mom kept making little comments, and my dad was like,  _ laughing _ at them, it was really sweet.” He was gazing at the portrait. 

“Do you only draw on yourself? Or do you have like, other stuff?” Barb asked.

“Pretty much only on me. Most of my notebooks have doodles and things in ‘em. But I kinda like just sharing it with them. They write really amazing poetry and stuff, so I like trading that kinda,  _ personal _ stuff with them.” Nancy and Barb cooed over him, pointing out details in the art he showed. 

“Not that this isn’t  _ riveting _ ,” Tommy stood, holding Carol close to him. “But we’ve heard all this, and Steve’s parents’ room is calling.” He planted a kiss to the top of Steve’s head as they walked past, always so over the top with physical affection. They had discovered each other as soulmates when they were all hanging out one day in the seventh grade. Tommy had fallen asleep at Steve's house, who thought it would be funny to draw a dick on his face. Carol began screaming as she realized the ink had appeared on her skin as well, and the rest, as they say, is history. 

“Whatever, man. You’re cleaning the sheets!” Carol flipped him off and Steve just rolled his eyes. 

“Do you think you could point me to a bathroom?” Nancy stood up and Carol rolled her eyes, but made a motion for her to follow them nonetheless. 

“You keep saying they.” Barb was quiet, looking at him seriously. “You think it could be a boy?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s hard to tell from what they write, I didn’t want to like,  _ assume _ .”

“So you wouldn’t  _ mind _ if it was a boy?”

“No. If they’re my  _ soulmate _ , the person who’s supposed to be like, the other  _ half _ of me, and all that, I wouldn’t care if they were a boy or a girl. I know that like, some people think its  _ wrong _ or whatever, but, this person is supposed to be, like, the perfect complement to my entire  _ soul _ . I don’t get how that can be such a bad thing if the universe has decided it that way.”

Barb’s eyes were shining in the dark. 

“Have you-you don’t have to say, um, if you don’t want, but have you ever  _ been _ with another boy?”

“No, but I’ve definitely thought about it. To be honest, I haven’t been with  _ half _ as many people as the rumors say. It’s fun and all, I  _ like _ going on dates, but sometimes it feels kinda weird like I’m, like I’m  _ cheating _ on this person.” Barb’s eyes were glowing.

“I didn’t know that. Honestly, Steve, I’m sorry. You’re a much sweeter guy than I’ve ever given you credit for.” He smiled back at her.

“Thanks, Barb.”

“Do you think I could tell you something?” She looked like she was going to get up and bolt away at any moment.

“Sure. I’m good at secrets, don’t have a lot of people around to tell.”

“I don’t-My soulmate is a girl. We write notes to one another and the things she’s said, she’s talked about  _ girl _ stuff, and I haven’t written back about anything like  _ that _ because, what if, what if  _ she _ doesn’t want a girl?” She was biting her lip, her eyes shining. “And the thing is, I’ve never really thought about boys. I can’t even  _ picture _ myself ending up with a guy, I was so  _ excited _ when she mentioned some girly stuff, and, I’m just scared.”

Steve leaned forward and hugged her tightly. 

“I’m so sorry. I know what it’s like to worry about that stuff. Sometimes I get so worried about my person finding someone else, someone  _ better _ .” He pulled back. “I’m a terrible person, definitely not above hitting a girl, so if she rejects you, she’s gonna have to go through me first.” She gave a watery laugh. 

“You’re a good guy, Steve. I’ve had a good time tonight.” Steve beamed.

“Me too! Hey, if you ever wanna, like, talk or anything, look me up. I can be a friend if you need one.”

They headed inside, Steve directing Barb and Nancy to a guest room while he went to bed, just missing the sight of a tall, skeletal creature stalking out from the trees lining his back yard. Jonathan snapped a picture and ran, not knowing what fucked up thing he had seen. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve loves Kevin Bacon and Rob Lowe I'm sorry I don't make the rules. 
> 
> There is a time skip between this chapter and the last, basically, we're now at the beginning of season 2.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr [@yikesharringrove](https://yikesharringrove.tumblr.com/)

Steve was dosing off behind the wheel of his car.

Barb was sitting in his passenger seat, reading through his college applications essay. 

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but it’s not, uh, good.” He turned his head dramatically on the headrest to look at her.

“Well, that’s one way to say it.” Steve rolled his eyes, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.

“You’re just really all over the place. I can help you fix it tonight if you want.”

“I thought you were with nancy tonight?”

“Yeah well, that’s assuming she doesn’t blow me off for Jonathan _again_ .” In the midst of the four of them hunting the demogorgon, trapping it and burning it to a crisp, Jonathan and Nancy had discovered their soulmate bond. They’ve been inseparable ever since. It has only made Steve and Barb closer, hanging out nearly every day. Steve knew Barb was upset about Nancy constantly choosing a boy over her, Barb knew Steve was lonely and sad, the encounter with the demogorgon made so much worse for him when Jonathan whipped out the photograph of one of the creatures prowling through his backyard.   
“You better not ditch me too when you find your person. I’ll never forgive you for that.” She was looking at him sternly from over his own essay. 

“I don’t know, they’ve been really quiet lately. Haven’t written anything in like, a month. I doodled a little elephant that was saying ‘I hope you’re okay’, so I mean,” he shrugged. “It is what it is.”

Barb opened her mouth to reply when the rumble of an engine cut her off. Steve whipped his head around to see a sleek muscle car turning into the Hawkins High parking lot, metal screaming from the open windows. 

“Jesus Christ, who is that asshole?” Barb snorted. Steve’s mouth went dry as the guy lifted himself out of the car. Steve was floored as the guy turned and he got a good look at his face. He was _gorgeous_ , all tan with long blond curly hair, and _bright_ blue eyes. His chest was broad and thick, his white shirt pulled tight across his pecs. His jeans were _stupid_ , so tight his ass and _thighs_ were perfectly on display. Steve didn’t even _notice_ the girl getting out of the passenger side, skateboarding over to the middle school.

“Oh my God, he’s so fucking _hot_ .” Barb gave him a _look_.

“No wonder you haven’t hooked up with any of the guys in Hawkins, if your type is California douchebag.”

“California? How do you know that?”

“Plates on the car.” She pointed. “You are so unobservant.”

“I was just too busy looking at his _ass_ to read the car’s plates.” She faked throwing up. “You mark my words, I’m gonna get fucked in that car.” He laughed as she began hitting him with his own notebook. 

The entire day, Steve’s eyes were _glued_ to the new guy. He watched him as he swaggered down the hall, parting the students like the Red Sea while he made his way around. 

“Steven!” Steve startled as Barb slammed her hand down on the table in front of him. He had been staring at the new guy across the lunchroom from where he was posted up at a table. He was eating with some of the people in Steve’s grade, Tommy and the basketball team, and Carol and a few girls. Steve hadn’t felt right sitting with them since they signed NDAs and nailed a bear trap to the Byers’ floor. He felt he outgrew Tommy and Carol, not by any choice of his own, by when he hit a seven-foot monster with a bat he and Jonathan had pounded nails into.

Barb was sitting next to him, one eyebrow raised. 

“Thank you for returning to us. Tina’s Halloween party. Tomorrow. You in?”

“Yeah, I could be into that. I don’t, I don’t know if I have a costume or anything.”

“I can help you figure something out after we fix your essay. Jon and Nancy have plans tonight.” Steve could hear the bitterness in her voice, just barely disguised. 

“Oh, what essay?” Nancy’s big eyes were trained on him.

“For, uh, college applications.”

“I didn’t know you were applying! What about working for your dad?” He had told her some time ago about his father’s offer to begin at his own company, working his way up the Hawkins branch while his dad moved full time to Indianapolis. The idea was shiny at first, but since learning about what _all_ Hawkins had to offer, Steve kinda wanted to, _flee_. 

“Yeah, I don’t really know if I _want_ to work in sales. Barb’s been helping me narrow some stuff down and finish my applications and stuff.”

Nancy said something, no doubt sweet and supportive, but Steve’s attention was on the new boy, he had stood up and stretched, his shirt hiking up to reveal some skin on his stomach, the v-line of his hips, the dirty blond hair trailing below his jeans. He watched as he walked out of the room.

“Billy,” Nancy said. 

“Sorry, what?” Steve clued back into her. She had a smirk on her face. “Billy Hargrove. That’s the new kid, the guy you’ve been _staring at_ all lunchbreak.” Steve broke eye contact his face going hot. “He’s in my English lit. class, my American politics, AND my chemistry lab.”

That means he’s smart, Nancy’s schedule was FULL of Advanced Placement courses, and he’s not JUST the _hottest_ guy Steve had EVER seen. Steve liked the name, too. _Billy Hargrove_ . It sounded good in his head. He immediately pictured himself breathing out _Billy, Billy, Billy_ in the back of that dark blue car. He shook the image from his brain, _refusing_ to pop a chub at school.

The rest of the day followed in the same way as the first, Steve zoned only in on Billy, trying to spy him wherever he could. 

Barb was waiting for him at his car when he stumbled out the front doors ten minutes late, having fallen asleep in his final period.

“Jesus, Steve. I was about to start walking home!”

“I’m sorry! I fucking fell asleep again!” They were yelling across the lot.

“Again? You jackass!” Steve heard a chuckle and turned to see Billy _fucking_ Hargrove leaned against his car. 

“Have a good nap, Pretty Boy?” Steve flushed and kept walking, not dealing with _that_ right now. He could hear Billy laughing at him as he went.

“Oh my fucking, _God_ , Barb,” he began saying the second the doors were shut. “He’s so fucking sexy, and his _voice_ was hot and _he’s_ hot and he fucking called me PRETTY BOY. I’m about to lose my damn mind.” He was pulling out of the lot, heading to his empty house. “I didn’t even _say_ anything, I just kept walking like a stupid idiot.”

“You’re not a stupid idiot. Can you be cool for like, four seconds? Is that too much to ask?”

“Yeah, yeah I can. Sorry, I’ll shut up about Hot Billy.”

“Oh my God.”

They pulled into Steve’s drive, talking loudly as they made their way up to his room. 

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do, you’re going to start working on an _outline_ of your essay, organize your thoughts, all that. I’ll dig through your closet for something for the party. Show me the outline when you think you’re finished and I’ll give you feedback.” She clapped her hands and Steve rolled his eyes but moved to the desk and opened his notebook to a new sheet of paper. He turned on some music, a Janis Joplin tape Barb got him to _expand his knowledge of amazing women_ and _fix his shitty music taste_. 

“What was the lame dance movie you dragged me to, like ten times?”

“Okay, _Footloose_ is NOT lame and we only saw it TWICE.”

“Yeah, but _you_ went and watched it by yourself _three_ more times.” Steve scoffed, but didn’t correct her. It was four times. “Anyway, you could go as the main guy.”

“I don’t know, I don’t have a red jacket like the one he wears at the end.”

“Then be that stupid scene where he’s angry dancing through the factory. That’s like jeans and a shirt.”

“He’s wearing a tank top. It’s _October_ . I’m gonna be _cold_.” Barb rolled her eyes.

“Rocky Balboa? The Italian Stallion?”

“ _Cold_ .” Barb turned back into his closet, muttering _Princess_ under her breath. 

“Oh!” She threw a flannel shirt at him. “Sodapop!” Steve held up the shirt

“Wait, you’re a genius!” He sprang up, digging through his closet for a plain white shirt. “Fuck yeah, Sodapop.” Steve and Barb had bonded quite a bit over a mutual love of _The Outsiders_. Steve wasn’t the best reader, so he had truly _loved_ few books. They had watched the movie together several times. Barb liked it because it followed the book so closely. Steve liked it because the cast seemed to be as close as the boys in the story. He liked how affectionate they were with one another. 

Steve knew he was clingy. He liked touching people, he liked _being_ touched by people. His father had always scoffed at the idea of physical affection, never once hugging his son because _it’s not how men behave_. 

“What are _you_ gonna wear, Sweet Angel Barbra?” She groaned at him.

“Are you seriously going to make me go?” She flopped down onto his bed.

“Yes! If I have to go, then you are going too!” He poked her arm until she swatted at him. “C’mon, B. You CAN’T make me go by myself!”

“Jon and Nancy will be there!” Steve gave her a pointed look. 

“FINE! I’ll go. But I’m taking my own car so I can leave whenever I want.”

“Great, pick me up at 8:30!”

“Steve, I’m not driving you. I don’t want to be stuck there just to take you home.”

“Look, if it’s shit, I’ll leave with you, or you can ditch me. I’ll make Jon drive me home.” She sat up and smirked at him.

“You’re totally going to ask Billy to drive you home, don’t you dare lie to me.” His face went red.

“Fine. Yes, I was gonna ask Billy. Drunk Steve is a pretty good wingman for me usually. But whatever, that’s not the point. You need a costume!”She pursed her lips.

“I have one from last year, I was Audrey Hepburn from _Roman Holiday_.” Steve gave her a blank look. She sighed and rolled her eyes at him. “You are terrible. It’s a blouse and a tan skirt.” He smiled.

“Yes! So that’s settled. Pick me up at 8:30. You promise you won’t flake out on me?” He raised his eyebrow at her.

“Yes, I promise. As long as you finish your essay!” She threw a pillow at him. It hit him directly in the face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is an anxious mess after a nightmare, and Billy is surprisingly sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr [@yikesharringrove](https://yikesharringrove.tumblr.com/)
> 
> This chapter features some mild panic attacks as well as unhealthy coping mechanisms (nothing very graphic, Steve is just lost in his head and accidentally hurts himself) but please be weary and take care of yourself!
> 
> We get to see a lil of Steve's dyslexia in this chapter too, I've also written him to have dysgraphia, which is like dyslexia when you're writing. People can have both, or one without the other, Steve has both and his difficulties are consonant clusters and silent letters.

The morning of Halloween, Steve woke up at 3:27 am.

He was having a nightmare, the same one as always. The demogorgon ripping through Nancy, Jonathan, Barb. He’s too slow with his bat, his aim isn’t true, the trap doesn’t work. Scenarios and what-ifs and death, so much _death_.

With shaking hands, he pulled down his pants, turning on the lamp on his nightstand and picking up a ballpoint pen. In times like these, times of blind panic and fear, Steve has always turned to his soulmate. They haven’t written him anything all October, but he needed them, he needed to get the fear out. 

He drew the demogorgon, skeletal body and flowering jaw. He wished he could draw the fear, the stench, the fire, but he settled for the monster, going over each line again, and again, and again.

Billy was harshly awakened by a stinging on his right thigh. He pulled back his covers to reveal a monster in ink. 

One day in late September, Billy’s father had caught him making out with Seth from down the street. He was livid, a screaming match that ended with Billy pushed down a flight of stairs. His father thought that Seth had been Billy’s soulmate, so he moved the family to Hawkins, Indiana. Billy didn’t feel the need to correct him. He _knew_ Seth wasn’t his soulmate, the images woven on their skin didn’t match, but he was cute, and fun, and _there_. Besides, Billy revealing Seth wasn’t his person would only make it worse, that Billy _chose_ a boy, instead of having fate bring them together. Hawkins was small, and close-minded, the perfect place to bring a boy to make him chose girls. But then Billy saw Steve Harrington, running out of the school with big hair and sleepy eyes, yelling at a tall red-head next to his car. He knew in that moment he would never choose anyone _but_ Steve Harrington.

He had been a dick to his soulmate for weeks, ignoring the doodles, putting his poetry down on paper instead of his own skin. The last he had seen was a cute elephant above his right knee with a speech bubble that read _I hope your ok!_ Billy didn’t even write back to point out the grammatical error. 

Billy’s soulmate was a beautiful artist. 

Ever since they could hold a pen, marker, paintbrush, Billy would have cartoon dogs running up his left arm, delicate birds near his ribcage. He once had a watercolor painting on his entire right thigh, a beautiful sunset over a forested lake. Sometimes there would be hearts and smiley faces next to the words Billy had written. Flowers sprouted from the darkest of his lines, stars glowed near the light-hearted ones. 

Billy’s body was constantly a patchwork of written word and colorful drawings. 

His father kept telling him his soulmate was _trashy_. _Any girl who would walk around all covered like that can’t be a nice one, Billy._ Billy never corrected him, let him think the poetry was the work of some sweet _person_ and not his own son. 

So, when Billy first moved to Hawkins, he took a break from writing on himself. His father had given him too much shit for it, he couldn’t bear anyone from his new school trying to take a few jabs at him for it. He would snap.

But here was this creature, with long hands that appeared to grip his flesh, and a jaw that opened like a lily, the clawed feet appeared to be digging above his knee, the jaw spanned up, almost to the bottom of his rib cage. He scrambled for a pen.

Steve could’ve cried (did cry, was _already crying_ ) when he saw the familiar handwriting growing across his other leg.

Steve’s soulmate was good with words. 

They would leave little poems, along Steve’s arms, sonnets and short stories would often cover his legs. He knew his soulmate was a lefty, the right always covered while the left typically sat bare, so Steve would reply.

He would use the left arm to draw out snippets from the writings on the rest of his body, doodles of things he saw during the day, smiley faces when the poetry on his legs took a darker turn. 

Tommy used to say _what’s your girl covering you in? Her shopping list?_ Steve never corrected them, the words too beautiful, too personal, too delicate.

Then Steve’s body became duller and duller. He checked near-daily for any trace of poetry, begging for scraps of words to appear on his skin. He tried everything, drawing a shitload, painting big, detailed _gorgeous_ images across his legs, stomach, left arm. He tapered off, figuring whoever it was had gotten over him, tired of him, bored of him. He wrote on little _I hope your ok!_ with a little drawing of an elephant before transitioning his art completely to paper and canvas.

Until tonight. Until the nightmare. Until the panic. Until the demogorgon of ink.

_Easy, Sweet Thing. You’re making us both bleed._

_Sorry, nitemare._

Billy’s heart broke. He wanted to hold this person close, soothe away their fears and pain, their panic caused by _this_. 

_Are you panicking? Focus on your breathing. In, and out. Don’t think about anything else._

Steve took a few shaky breaths.

_Wil you rite for me? I’m sory, you don’t have to, it wood make me feel beter._

Billy smiled at the handwriting. He had only seen it a few times, his person not good with their words. They were obviously dyslexic, or something. But that was okay. Their art was so beautiful. He took out his hidden Polaroid, snapping a picture of the creature on his leg, depositing the image in the box with the rest, images of the images on his skin. The drawings gifted to him by this person, _his_ person.

_I can do that. Give me a minute to think._

He let the words flow, using whatever appeared into his brain for inspiration. He couldn’t shake thoughts of big brown eyes and _long_ pale legs. So that’s what he wrote about. This beautiful boy that caught his eye the second he saw him.

_To find a kiss of yours_ _  
__what would I give_ _  
__A kiss that strayed from_ _  
__your lips_ _  
__dead to love._

_My lips taste_ _  
__the dirt of shadows_

_To gaze at your dark eyes_ _  
__what would I give_  
_Dawns of rainbow garnet_ _  
__fanning open before God-_

Steve sobbed when the words returned to his skin. He read them slowly, his finger tracing along the bottom of each syllable, following out loud. He read it again and again, deciphering as much meaning as he could. He squeezed his eyes shut, repeating the words to himself under his breath, inhaling the emotions. 

They were beautiful, words written about a lover, words written by a lover. He pretended they were about him, penned by someone who saw his sadness and gave him love. He imaged _Billy_ and his heart was squashed. This boy was too good for him, pure, and golden, and perfect. He shuffled out of bed, the camera his father had bought him one year, a makeup gift for being absent on his birthday. He snapped a photo, one to add to the collection of images he hoarded. Sometimes the words were too difficult for him to figure out. He kept a box full of photos in case he needed Barb’s second opinion (for her to tell him what the fuck it says). He turned his attention back to the original poem, wrapping the poem in vines and leaves and yellow flowers.

Billy was ecstatic when the vines began growing. He imagined it was Steve drawing them. He imagined long legs curled up, tongue between his teeth, tears in his big eyes as he focused on the art he was creating on his left thigh. The image shattered Billy’s heart. He was kidding himself. Absolutely faking it. There was _no way_ this perfect _person_ is his. 

More poems bloomed along his legs, more vines and trees and flowers and fruits joined the words. 

They spent all morning like that, curled around the other’s art, taking turns decorating their bodies. Both imaging the truth and talking themselves out of it. 

Steve was a mess at school the next day. 

He had gotten very little sleep, thanks to his shitty brain and his shitty nightmares, and on top of it all, was laying there reading the poetry on his body, imagining Billy and feeling progressively sadder every time he had to remind himself that it wasn’t real. 

“You look like shit.” Barb liked to keep it real. She was staring at him from the passenger seat of his car.

“Didn’t sleep a lot last night.”

“Nightmare?” Her face was softer. She knew about the guilt and fear Steve lived with, guilt and fear that she felt was something close to irrational, but Steve knew that. She just had to love him a little harder through it all.

“Yeah. Started drawing. Soulmate started writing again.”

“I mean, isn’t that good?”

“Steve threw the care into park at the edge of the lot. He started shimming down his jeans. Barb started at the monster for a while before her eyes ticked to the words on the other leg.

“Jesus, you made _both_ of you bleed? God Steve, that’s probably going to scar!” She quickly read the poem. “God, that’s so beautiful.”

“I know! I just, you know how I get, I didn’t even _realize_ I was doing it, couldn’t really make myself stop. But that’s not even the fucking worst part.” He pulled his pants back up, buttoning them awkwardly in his seat. “I mean, you read what they wrote. That’s some hardcore sappy love shit. I kept, like, imagining _Billy_ writing the stuff. And, if he-or they are writing this, then they’re probably in love with someone, someone who isn’t _me_ and B it’s really _fucking_ with me.” She gently took his hand.

“Stevie, I’m sorry.” He was about to start crying again. She was only _this_ gentle with him when she felt he _really_ needed it. When she didn’t quite know what else to do. 

He started the car again, finding his usual spot. They sat in the quiet for a moment before Barb sighed.

“We can’t sit here all day, Steve.”

“I know. I just don’t wanna go in just yet.”

They sat for another few minutes.

Steve ended up ditching lunch, opting to sit in the library in one of the small study rooms. He was drawing in a notebook, not wanting to mar his person any more than he had last night. 

“Where’s Steve?” Nancy had asked Barb, his empty seat across the table glaring at her.

“He had another rough night. Probably in the library, or another one of his ‘please don’t talk to me I’m very sad’ hiding spots.”

“Is he okay?” Jonathan asked, unwrapping a sandwich his mother had packed this morning. 

“He’s just freaking out as he does. I think he has a lot on his plate these days, and you know how he likes to shove everything down until he physically can’t.” Nancy nodded sagely. 

“Are you guys still going to meet us at the party tonight?”

“He made me promise _I_ was going to go, so I’m not letting him flake on _me_. He’ll probably want to get horribly drunk tonight anyway, that’s kind of his M.O. after a rough night.” Nancy frowned.

“Okay, well if _you_ think that’s a good idea, I guess. We should just watch out for him, make sure he doesn’t get too drunk or anything.”

Steve was too drunk. 

Every room seemed to be shifting beneath his feet. The faces and the bodies of the people around him blurred together. The music, the talking, the laughter all became one _noise_ and Steve had to get himself the fuck outta there. Barb had left an hour ago, making Steve promise he was okay. She wasn’t having much fun after Jonathan had to carefully shove an extremely _shitfaced_ Nancy into his car. He had done a few shots after she left. And then a few more. And then one more, just for luck. He stumbles outside and into the solid back of _Billy Hargrove_.

“Whoa, there Pretty Boy. Where’s the fuckin’ fire?” Steve was hyperventilating, freaking out about, he didn’t even know anymore. Billy’s face fell out of his smirk, his eyes sharpening and he took in Steve. “Easy, Sweet Thing. Are you panicking? Focus on your breathing. In, and out. Don’t think about anything else.” 

The words were the exact same as the ones marking up his thigh. He had imagined them being spoken in this very same deep drawl. He had pictured these strong hands gripping a pen. It only made Steve feel worse, but he gripped the thick arms, and watch the broad chest rise and fall, trying to match the movement. 

“There you go, good job. You’re okay.” Billy was rubbing up and down from elbow to shoulder. Steve slumped forward, burying his face in Billy’s neck, smelling sweat, and beer, and cigarette smoke, and cologne. “Hey, man, you okay?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry I’m-’m not having a good time.”

“Yeah, uh, I can kinda see that.” Steve recoiled, putting a good foot of space between him and Billy.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m, a little _too_ drunk.”

“Hey, that’s alright.” Billy was reaching up to his mouth, lighting two cigarettes. Steve gladly took the one he was offered. “Is this how all the parties here are? No offense, but this is kinda shit.” Steve huffed a laugh, smoke trailing out with his breath.

“Yeah, they’re all pretty lame, I guess.” His hands were still shaking, he watched the cigarette wobbling between his fingers.

“What set you off? You and that redhead break up or something’?” Steve turned to Billy raising an eyebrow, taking note of the way Billy pinched his own cig between his left thumb and forefinger. _He’s left-handed_. 

“You mean Barb? We’re not together. She’s just, a really good person, really good friend.” Billy’s eyes lit up a little Steve’s stomach flipped. 

“Yeah? She not your type or somethin’?”

“It’s not that, I just don’t date much.” Billy nodded.

“So you’re one of _those_. Feel like you’re two-timing someone you’re even with or whatever.”

“I guess. Is that lame?”

“Nah, it’s kinda sweet, Pretty Boy.” Billy reached his arms above his head, stretching his shoulders and shaking out his head. Steve’s eyes drifted _down_. Billy’s jacket hiked up, opening further to reveal the beer on his chest, the muscles packed under his skin, the hair leading down, the sharp lines of hip bones. Steve’s heart stopped.

Just above the line of Billy’s jeans on his right side, Steve could see ink, black ink pushed deep into the skin. The very tip of what appeared to be a flowering jaw.

Steve bolted.

He couldn’t deal with this. He found the nearest bathroom, slamming himself inside and lifting his own shirt, seeing the exact same deep marking peaking out above the waistline of his own jeans. He was freaking out again. It felt as though the bathroom was growing smaller, the walls closing in on him. He yanked his shirt back down, tucking it in for good measure. _Nonononono_ this could NOT be fucking happening. Billy Hargrove, the most gorgeous person Steve had ever seen was the clever thoughtful poet that Steve shared his soul with. The clever thoughtful poet that was in love with _someone else_. 

The door opened, Steve whipping his head to see the intruder.

“Christ, you’re like a scared little deer.” Of course it was Billy who would come after him. He shrank into the corner of the bathroom. “Let me take you home. This party’s lame anyway.”

Steve shook his head. Billy raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not above carrying you outta here, Bambi.” Steve would _not_ be able to handle that. He stumbled closer to Billy who gently led him out of the party, keeping a warm firm on the small of his back. 

Billy walked outside and straight to the sleek car parked down the road. He opened the door for Steve, helping him down into the seat gently, handling him as though he were made of glass. When Billy sat down he looked expectantly at Steve who’s brain was empty. 

“I don’t know where you live, Pretty Boy.”

“Oh, um, do you know where Loch Nora is?” Billy nodded. “Just head over there, and I’ll-I’ll tell you from there.” Billy started the car, turning down the music that was blaring from the radio to a dull sound. Steve was grateful.

“So, Sodapop?” Billy asked after a few silent minutes.

“Huh?”

“Your costume. Sodapop. Like _The Outsiders_.”

“Oh yeah! I really love the book, and I think the movie is just as good.”

“Good taste in literature, then. Good for you. That book is pretty important to me.”

“Me too.” It was quiet again for a moment.

“You from here originally?”

“Yeah. Born and raised. I’ve even left the state.”

“God, you must be a saint then. I think I’d go crazy in a place like this. I think I’m _gonna_ go crazy.”

“You’re telling me. I feel like this fucking town has dragged me to Hell and back.” Billy observed him for a minute.

“Tommy said you used to be kind of an asshole. Said you were kinda the resident bad boy.” Steve snorted.

“About as bad as you could be in pastel polo.” Billy laughed. Steve liked the sound of it. “I went through some shit last year, though. Being a jerk didn’t really seem worth it, after that.” Billy hummed. 

“Is that shit from last year causin’ all, _this_.” He gestured vaguely at Steve. The death grip he had on his legs, the tear tracks still staining his face.

“Not all of it, but, part of it.” Billy hummed again. They sat in silence for several more minutes before Billy was pulling past the sign for Loch Nora. Steve directed him quitely. Billy whistled as he continued down the long drive in front of Steve’s house.

“Your castle, Princess.” Steve blushed.

“Thank-thanks, Billy. Can I give you money for gas or anything?” Billy waved a hand.

“Don’t sweat it, Pretty Boy. It’s not like this town is big enough for me to use that much gas.” Steve nodded. He didn’t want to leave Billy just yet. He liked being near him. 

“Well, still thanks. For the ride, and, stuff.” Steve blushed and hauled himself out of the car.

“Have a good night, Bambi!” Billy called from the open door. He waited until Steve was safely in his house before pulling out of the drive, engine roaring down the street.

Steve raced to his bedroom, launching himself on his bed and screaming straight into his pillow. Jesus Christ did he have _a lot_ to tell Barb.

Across town, the newly christened D’Artagnan curled up in a tank that _used to_ belong to a tortoise. He chirped, knowing home wasn’t too far away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am terrible at poetry so the poem Billy writes to Steve it from "To Find a Kiss of Yours" by Frederico García Lorca. I love him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is dramatic, Barb is Tired, and Billy is in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little shorter, just some filler. The next chapter we're gonna get some sweet sweet Billy and Steve pining :)
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr [@yikesharringrove](https://yikesharringrove.tumblr.com/)!

“So, Billy Hargrove? Are you sure? Like are you  _ positive _ ?” Steve had dragged Barb into the library during lunch, explaining his panic attack at the party the night before, all wild eyes and dramatic hands. 

“Yes! I’m positive! I saw  _ my _ fucking demogorgon on him!”

“You saw THE TIP of  _ your fucking demogorgon _ on him. I don’t think you can jump to conclusions like that.”

“Watch me fucking jump, Barbara!” She rolled her eyes. “And it’s not just that, when he saw me panicking, he said  _ the exact _ same thing that he had written on me the night before! EXACT SAME THING. It’s not a coincidence, it’s him, I know it is. I can fucking  _ feel _ it.”

“Why don’t you talk to him about it?” It was Steve’s turn to roll his eyes.

“ _ Because _ , he’s all in love with somebody else, some  _ girl _ he probably left in California, he doesn’t want me. He wrote more stuff last night, going on, like all fucking night about, like  _ finding solace in you and burying myself deep within _ .” Steve had memorized that one. He had woken up after a drunken sleep, a deep black sleep, to several new poems. He drew something small on his arm in second period to acknowledge it, hiding the art in his sweater. “He’s obviously jonesing for some  _ girl _ and he’s gonna be so  _ disappointed _ when he finds out it’s me.”

“It’s amazing how good of an actor you are. You played so cocky for so long, sometimes  _ I _ even forget how insecure you are.” Steve hit her with his notebook. “ _ Sorry _ , whatever. I’m right.” She held up her hands in surrender. “Look, the way I see it, you have two options: talk to him about it, tell him you know that’s he’s your person and all that, OR, accept your fate and  _ move on _ .”

“Nah, I think I’m just gonna be sad about it for a while.” Barb leaned back in her chair, tipping her head back and groaning  _ of course you are _ to the heavens. 

“You, Steven Harrington, are  _ the _ most dramatic person I have ever met.”

“Thank you, I take that honor seriously, and gracefully.” He stood up, nodding at her, taking a deep curtsey. She laughed at him. 

“Do you want to come over for dinner? My mom said she’s been missing you and she’s going to pick up KFC.”

“Yes! I’ll be there with fuckin’ bells on.” They stood and exited the library, Barb tossing a smile to the kind woman at the circulation desk. “I can come over after practice tonight.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” He knocked his hip against hers as they walked down the hall, chattering and laughing, neither of them seeing Billy at his locker, gazing at Steve with a smile on his face.

When Billy had driven home after the party, his father had been up waiting for him, wondering where he had gone on a school night and why some other kid’s mother had dropped Max off after trick-or-treating. Apparently, he didn’t like Billy’s response:  _ good that the little shitbird made some friends _ . He had taken his punishment as quietly as he always did. To cry, to shriek, to moan, was to make it worse. He retreated to his room and the solace of his person, giving them his words and waiting for their art. He went to sleep for a few hours when nothing came, dreaming of sad brown eyes and shaking hands.

He loved seeing Steve in this moment of peace. He had been so freaked last night, scared of his own shadow. Billy had watched him turn on light after light when he dropped him off at the giant house. Watching him now, being silly and relaxed with his friend, Billy couldn’t tear his eyes away. He was all soft. Soft hair, soft eyes, soft smile. Billy couldn’t stand the way his stomach flipped, his heart skipped, and his skin sang whenever Steve was near. He didn’t understand why  _ this _ boy was causing him to feel like this. The guy was  _ beautiful _ , but it’s not like Billy had never seen hot guys before. He was from California, for fuck’s sake, Land of Hot Guys, yet this leggy fucker was makin’ his heart  _ sing _ . 

He slammed his locker and walked down the hall, keeping close enough to Steve and his girl to hear them babbling on. 

“Steve, if I have to hear  _ about _ him  _ one more time _ without you agreeing to pull your head  _ out of your ass _ and TALK _ to  _ him, I’m never speaking to you again.”

“That’s fuckin’ harsh, Barbara. Let me whine! You know it’s what I’m best at!”

“I’m not going to listen to you whine when you could figure all this out with ONE conversation.”

“Of course you’re gonna listen to me whine, that’s like, 85% of our friendship.” He threw his arms around Barb, she laughed and tried to shrug him off. “When I come over tonight, will you take another look at my essay? I think it’s less shitty than the other one.”

“ _ Anything _ is less shitty than the other one.”

“Okay, rude! You know I’m no good with words.”

“Being dyslexic doesn’t make you a shitty writer. Comparing World War II with a swim meet makes you a shitty writer.” Steve threw back his head and laughed.

“I  _ know _ it was fucking stupid, I just couldn’t get my brain together. I think I have a better plan now. It’s about last year.” She stopped in her tracks, the smile melting off her face. Billy moved a little closer to the wall, not wanting to get caught listening in.

“Steve, you  _ know  _ we can’t-”

“I know, I know. It’s just, the question was writing about when you’ve overcome something that ended up really affecting you, and that was the  _ biggest _ thing that I have  _ ever _ overcome, and you  _ know _ that it has fundamentally changed who I am as a  _ human person _ . I didn’t write the-you’ll just have to read it.” She gave him a look like she didn’t quite believe him and they continued on into the cafeteria, Steve dancing around her like a dummy, making her laugh and roll her eyes.

Billy was smitten.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're getting into a little bit of canon, Steve is a mess, Barb is a good friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr [@yikesharringrove](https://yikesharringrove.tumblr.com/)!  
> 

Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers weren’t in school the second half of the day. They missed the entire day after that.

Billy only noticed this absence when Nancy didn’t spend most of their shared classes talking about what  _ she _ gleaned from the readings, and, of  _ course _ because Steve was getting antsy. He had to leave the lunchroom on Friday, looking very much how he did at the Halloween party, fleeing like a spooked deer. Barb followed him out and to Steve’s favorite room in the library, Billy stalking behind. He watched as she coached Steve through a panic attack like she had done it a million times before. Billy realized, she probably had. 

“They haven’t answered any of my calls, Barb. I’m freaking out, what if it has, you know-what if this is connected to  _ last year _ ?” 

“Stevie, you need to breathe for me. They’re okay, Karen said Nancy was at Allie’s, finished their chem project last night, and you know the Byers are weird about the phone these days.” She gently tugged Steve’s hands away from where he was yanking them through his hair. 

“Should we talk to Hopper? I just have a real bad feeling about this.”

“Tell you what, let’s go over to Nancy’s tomorrow, and see if she’s around. I know it’s not like them to skip, but this time of year is probably really hard on Jonathan, and maybe they needed some space.” Steve nodded.

“Yeah, I, yeah. You’re probably right.” She smiled at him softly.

“I’m always right, Stevie.” He huffed a laugh, wiping tears off his face.

“ _ God _ , if I could go  _ one day _ without having a panic attack in fucking  _ public _ , that’d be super. Practice is gonna  _ suck _ today.”

“You want me to come over later? I can bring a movie.”

“And snacks?” She rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Steve. And snacks. How you manage to survive in that house of yours all by yourself is beyond me.” He laughed, a more genuine one as his nerves began to calm.

“I can take care of myself just fine. I just like it better when you do it, though.” She pushed him and he laughed again. Billy was truly coming to love the sound of Steve Harrington laughing, he giggled like a little kid, his face crinkling up with his smile. “I have plenty o’ booze too.”

“No. Last time you got me drunk I cried about how pretty that Robin girl from band is, and then puked for like, three hours.” 

“Barbara, you useless lesbian.” She smacked his arm. “You don’t have to drink like that tonight,  _ especially _ since you can’t keep up with  _ King St _ -”

“If you call yourself ‘King Steve’ I will kick your ass and walk out of your life forever.”

He gave another gorgeous ringing laugh.

Steve steps into the shower after his swim practice, the team was focusing on weight training every Friday, keeping in shape for the impending season. The basketball team was in the locker room, being rowdy as ever when Steve arrived. He took his time in the steam, closing his eyes and stretching his sore shoulders in the hot water. 

“You alright, Harrington?” His eyes flew open, meeting Billy Hargrove’s through the steam. Steve was suddenly  _ very _ aware of the fact they were both naked. He tried to will himself  _ not _ to look at Billy’s dick.

He failed. 

It was a pretty nice dick.

“Yeah, uh, why wouldn’t I be?” Billy shrugged.

“Just wanted to check in after the party. You’ve been pretty elusive.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks, um, for driving me home, and like, taking care of me and stuff.” Billy smiled at him, head tipped back, looking at Steve through his lashes.

“No problem, Pretty Boy. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” Steve’s brain shorted out at the  _ Pretty Boy _ . 

“You wanna, uh, you wanna like, hang out sometime?” Steve didn’t know  _ what the FUCK  _ he was doing, saying. Billy just kept grinning, eyes drifting down slightly to Steve’s chest, kept shaved for faster times in the pool. Barb has waxed it for him once, which was a  _ nightmare _ .

“Yeah, Bambi. You free tonight? I got a bottle a’ tequila and a couple joints burnin’ a hole in my pocket.” Steve threw his head back dramatically, Billy chuckled.

“You’re speaking my fucking language, dude. You wanna come over tonight? My friend Barb and I were gonna get drunk and watch movies.”

“Sure. I’ll be there with fuckin’ bells on.” Steve narrowed his eyes. The way Billy had said that almost sounded  _ teasing _ , like there was a joke there Steve wasn’t getting. Billy clapped him on the shoulder and swaggered out of the shower room, barely bothering to cover his, admittedly  _ amazing _ ass with his towel.

When Steve pulled into his driveway, Barb’s car was already in front of one of the garage doors. Steve slid into his own spot and banged his way into the house, finding Barb doing her homework at his kitchen table.

“You really broke in here just to be a fuckin’ nerd and do your calculus homework?” He shuffled off his shoes and jacket, leaving a trail of clothing and bags Barb rolled her eyes at.

“Yes, Steve. You took forever and I got bored.” She turned back to her books.

“So, uh, I may have done something  _ really _ stupid.” 

“I don’t doubt that.”

“First of all, ouch, Barbara. Second of all, I may have, well, I may have invitedBillyHargrovetocomeandhangoutwithustonight.” She slowly turned back to him.

“Did you just say you invited  _ Billy Hargrove _ to come and hang out with us tonight?” He nodded, his eyes wide. “Why on  _ earth _ did you do  _ that _ ?”

“We were in the showers together after school and-”

“If you two had sex I don’t wanna hear about it!”

“We didn’t have sex, calm down! He just asked me how I was doing after the party, and stuff, and he was being sweet, and I kinda panicked and invited him to hang out with us tonight and he said he was gonna bring tequila and weed.” She stared at him.

“Slut.” She said simply, closing her books and putting them back in her back, depositing it on the kitchen floor. “Fine, he can hang out, but he says or does anything shitty, he’s gone.” Steve nodded vigorously. 

They heard the car from about a mile away, Steve practically started vibrating when he saw it come gliding down the driveway.

“Fuck! He’s here already!” He turned to Barb. “Okay, I gotta be normal, if I start getting weird, just like, kick me or something.” She kicked him. Billy knocked. Steve scrambled to answer the door.

“I come bearing illicit substances.” Billy grinned at him. Steve couldn’t help but return it.

“Thanks, man. Come on in.” He noticed Billy take off his boots, neatly lining them against the wall in the entryway. “Billy, Barb, Barb, Billy.” He motioned between them, Billy giving Barb a nod, Barb narrowing her eyes.

“What’d you rent, B?” Steve was  _ determined _ the two get along. He didn’t want any sort of tension ruining his night.

“Got us some Hitchock,  _ Psycho _ ,  _ Vertigo _ ,  _ Rope _ ,  _ The Birds _ , you know, the classics.” Steve pulled a face. “And I got YOU  _ The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly _ , for when you get too scared to finish the others.” Steve smiled at her, making grabby hands for the tape. Billy thought it was the cutest fuckin’ thing he’d  _ ever _ seen.

“Okay, you guys wanna order food, or, I have leftovers from like, Tuesday.” He opened up the Tupperware and sniffed at the food inside, grilled peppers and Italian sausage. “Actually let’s get a pizza I don’t feel like this.” He tossed it back into the fridge, turning to see Billy and Barb sitting next to one another at the counter, the same eyebrow raised as they watched him. He burst out laughing. “You two are  _ both _ giving me the  _ Steve is an idiot _ look, I don’t wanna hang out with you at the same time, I’m gonna get judged!” They rolled their eyes in unison, Steve laughed harder.

“You’re useless. I’m ordering pizza. Barb moved to the phone next to the toaster. Billy, do you have any special requests?”

“Nah, I’ll eat whatever is shoved in front of me.” He grinned as Barb dialed, Steve still laughing, crouched to the floor to deal with himself. “You good there, Pretty Boy?” Steve nodded, his face red.

“Let’s get blazed,” He choked out.

The three of them got high, drinking whiskey stolen from Steve’s dad’s study. Billy had whistled when he has seen the room, eyeing the large furniture and crystal decanters. 

Steve spent most of  _ The Birds _ with his face buried in a pillow, and had to turn off  _ Vertigo _ in the middle, claiming he was too high and getting vertigo of his own. They watched  _ The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly _ , Steve reciting nearly every line until Barb smacked him. They ended up in Steve’s room, listening to something chill, a mix Steve had made for Barb of soft rock from the ’70s and passing around another joint.

“Where are you from in California?” Steve asked, smoke pouring from his mouth. 

“San Diego. It’s in the south.”

“Oh, so it’s like, warm there?”

“Yeah, Pretty Boy. It’s warm there.” Barb scoffed. 

“Did you leave a girlfriend behind?” She asked. Steve flushed, not really wanting to know the answer.

“Nah. Left a boyfriend behind, though.” Steve choked on the smoke, Barb thumping him on the back. “My sister told my dad I had a friend over while he and his wife were outta town. He drove all night back home. Moved here when he caught us together. Figured he thought I wouldn’t be able to  _ act on my urges _ out here amongst all the republican hicks.”

“You’re gay?” She returned her attention to Billy. 

“Yeah, I am.” He said it so lazily, as though it was old news.

“Me too.” Billy smiled at Barb.

“Queers really do find a way of sniffin’ each other out, don’t they?” He laughed. Steve watched smoke fall out of his mouth, his gaze lingering on Billy’s full lips.

“That’s why Barb decided to give me a chance at first.” Billy furrowed his brows at Steve not catching his meaning. “We weren’t really friends until last year, but we were talkin’ soulmates, and I said that I wouldn’t mind, you know, having a guy be my soulmate, and she told me she knew hers was a girl, and we just kinda talked and, like, bonded.”

“You two know who yours’ are?” Billy asked. Steve started to flush, color blooming high in his cheeks.

“I don’t know who, but I know a lot about her. She’s artistic, but forgets a lot of stuff. I always have reminders on my arms of things she needs to do, groceries she needs to pick up, that kind of stuff. But she will doodle flowers and trees and put little motivational lines on me, and I think it’s really cute.” Billy smiled.

“Mine’s an artist too. Draws a lot of flowers and plants, like your girl does. I once had this huge painting on my leg of a sunset over a lake, and there was like, forest and stuff, it was so beautiful. I sat there and watched it appear little by little for like,  _ hours _ .” Steve remembered doing that, sitting on the tall edge of the quarry with a palette and a few brushes, putting the quarry right there on his skin. “I bought a camera so that I could take pictures of their art, it’s all so beautiful. Like, a few days ago, there was this giant  _ monster _ on my whole thigh, and even up to my ribs, this thing looked so  _ realistic _ . And the  _ way _ it was drawn, had me bleeding, like it was  _ actually _ clawin’ at me.” He sucked on the joint again. “Been ignoring me since that, though. I hope they’re doin’ okay.” Steve wanted to  _ scream _ . His hands rubbed over the faint scars that had developed in the wake of the ink demogorgon.

“Mine’s been ignoring me too. We used to talk a lot, but, I think he’s in love with somebody else.” Steve wanted to slap his hand other his mouth, shut himself up for the rest of the night. 

“Steve, you don’t  _ know _ that.” Barb was looking at him, eyes wide.

“I think I do.” Billy took note of the way his hands began to tremble. “It’s getting late, and we have to check on Nancy tomorrow.” He was avoiding eye contact with Billy. “There’s, um, a few guest rooms. You can take one, if you’d like. Barb always takes the same one, though. So, uh, any of the others.” He stood, putting his joint out on the ashtray he kept on his nightstand, and sweeping off to the bathroom. Billy looked at Barb. 

“He okay?”

“Yeah, he just has a lot on his plate right now, and he’s been getting really worked up about this soulmate stuff lately.” Billy nodded.

“He seems like the type to fall in love real easy. I’ll beat the shit outta whoever broke his heart like that.” Barb smiled sadly at him.

“You’re right. Steve Harrington is made out of love.” She glanced at the door, closed between them and Steve. “And he’ll appreciate the sentiment, but I think he breaks his own heart a lot too.” She stood, wishing Billy a goodnight, turning around in the doorway. “We’re going to have another movie night on Sunday, if you want to come.” She smiled and wandered down the hall, finding her usual guest room. 

Billy didn’t stay the night, had to sneak in his bedroom window. Spent the night awake, Barb’s words reverberating around his head,  _ He breaks his own heart a lot, too. _


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But if Nancy’s not home, do you have any idea where she may be?” Barb was talking into the rear-view mirror.
> 
> “No, I can’t get a hold of anyone, not even the rest of the party. No offense, but you two were not my first choice.”
> 
> “Um, full offense taken. We did burn one of these alive last year.” Steve was fidgeting with the radio now, keeping his hands busy enough to hide their shaking.
> 
> “Yeah, after screaming about it for ten minutes.” Barb snorted at Dustin’s comment, but had the wherewithal to look sheepish when Steve glared at her.
> 
> “Okay, I only freaked out for like, a second, mainly because Nancy was pointing a LOADED GUN at my face, and then I beat the shit outta the thing, so like you’re welcome.” He huffed.
> 
> “Yes, Steve. Not all heroes wear capes and all that. Let’s just deal with this and move on. I have an essay I need to finish.” Steve rolled his eyes, parking on the street in front of Dustin’s house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in canon, folks! I wanted to not make it super dull, we've all watched the show, so some things are changed, Steve's a badass, Barb
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr [@yikesharringrove](https://yikesharringrove.tumblr.com/)!

Steve was up early the next morning, decided to sip his coffee in the cold morning air, wrapping himself in a large hoodie and sitting in a chair by the pool, watching the trees sway.

He thought about Billy, how he had admitted he left a boyfriend in San Diego, the person Steve suspected to be the muse for his poems. He thought about Nancy and Jonathan, not answering phone calls and skipping school. He thought about his parents, who haven’t been home since those three days in July. He sat there, mulling and stewing and thinking until Barb joined him.

“He likes you.” She said it point-blank. In that tone that meant she didn’t want any arguments. Steve opened his mouth to argue.

“But he doesn’t love me.”

“Yes, he does. In a way, he  _ really  _ does. You saw the way he was when he talked about your art, how beautiful it is. He told me he was going to fight whoever broke your heart, I didn’t know how to tell him he would be fighting himself.” She bumped her shoulder into Steve’s. “There is something in him that loves you inherently, I  _ know _ it.” He sighed.

“Thanks, Barb. You’re a really great friend, and all, but can we, like, not talk about this right now? I’ve been thinking about it too much.” She nodded. He rested his head on her shoulder.

“You wanna get breakfast before we head over to check on Nancy?”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good time.” They took their time at the diner, eating slowly and laughing together, both stalling for reasons they weren’t totally sure of. Something was off, and they both knew going to Nancy’s was going to be the beginning.

They came back to Steve’s house to finish the movies Barb rented, decided to return them to Family Video. Barb ran inside, Steve leaning against his car, smoking to try and soothe his nerves.

He saw Billy outside of the arcade and waved, his stomach lurching when Billy waved lazily back, a smirk on his face. He watched a redhead get into the car with him before he peeled out of the lot, tires screeching and engine roaring.

When they showed up to The Wheeler's, they were intercepted by Dustin, who said Nancy wasn’t home and let himself into Steve’s car. Barb raised her eyebrows at Steve, who shrugged, pulling the car out and following Dustin’s directions to his house. Listening intently to Dustin’s story.

“Wait, how big?” Steve asked.

“First he was that big,” Dustin held his fingers a few inches apart. “Then he was that big,” about a foot apart this time. Steve huffed.

“I swear if it’s just some little lizard-”

“Steve,” Barb shot him a look.

“It’s not just some little lizard!” Dustin was indignant.

“How do you even know?”

Dustin leaned forward between the two front seats.

“Because his face opened up, and he ate my cat!” Steve and Barb exchanged looks.

“Fuck,” Steve mumbled, his hand drifting to his pocket, feeling the outline of his lighter. A nervous habit, making sure it was on his person at all times, ever since they set the last monster ablaze.

“But if Nancy’s not home, do you have any idea where she may be?” Barb was talking into the rear-view mirror.

“No, I can’t get a hold of anyone, not even the rest of the party. No offense, but you two were not my first choice.”

“Um, full offense taken. We did burn one of these  _ alive _ last year.” Steve was fidgeting with the radio now, keeping his hands busy enough to hide their shaking.

“Yeah, after screaming about it for ten minutes.” Barb snorted at Dustin’s comment, but had the wherewithal to look sheepish when Steve glared at her.

“Okay, I only freaked out for like, a second, mainly because Nancy was pointing a LOADED GUN at my face, and then I beat the shit outta the thing, so like you’re welcome.” He huffed.

“Yes, Steve. Not all heroes wear capes and all that. Let’s just deal with this and move on. I have an essay I need to finish.” Steve rolled his eyes, parking on the street in front of Dustin’s house.

“I locked it in the cellar.” Dustin showed them to the doors, looking expectantly at Steve. When there was no reply to the bat hitting the metal doors, Steve went down the stairs, bat held in front of him, ready to defend.

There was nothing down there, some boxes, some old paint cans. Nothing but a large hole in the bricks, a hole that continued through the earth.

“You two better get down here.” Barb and Dustin followed him down, Dustin swearing at the hole in the wall. The three went silent as Steve held the molted skin up with the bat, immediately knowing they were in a load of deep shit.

They spent the night formulating a plan in the Hendersons’ basement, going out early the next morning to get a bunch of raw beef from the butcher shop in town, luring the creature to the junkyard, the decided upon the safest spot, outside of town, no risk of others getting caught up in it, plenty of things to use to build a fortress. They had a plan. Dustin finally, got ahold of one of his friends, told Lucas to meet the three of them at the junkyard.

Spreading the raw meat took most of the day. They walked slowly along the perimeter of town, From the Hendersons’ place to the junkyard, spreading handfuls of beef every few steps along the train tracks.

“But why would a girl like some nasty slug anyway?” Steve pulled a face, looking to Barb for help.

“An  _ inter-dimensional  _ slug, because it’s awesome!” Dustin said it like it was obvious.

“Well, even if she thought it was cool, which she  _ didn’t _ , um, I just, I don’t know man, I feel like you’re trying  _ way _ too hard.”

“Not everyone can have your  _ perfect _ hair, alright?” Dustin looked down.

“It’s not  _ about  _ the hair, alright?” He turned around, walking backward to face Barb. “Oh, wise one, what would you say is the key with girls?” She laughed at him when he nearly tripped over the track.

“There is no magic  _ key with girls _ . Every girl is different. Find out what  _ she _ likes before you assume it’s the same as the stuff  _ you  _ like. Literally, just  _ talk _ to her. Find out about  _ her _ .” Steve snapped at Barb giving Dustin a  _ see!  _ face.

“I mean, I know she likes the arcade, and skateboarding, and she’s from California. San Diego.” Steve stopped.

“Wait, you got a jones for Billy’s sister?” Dustin raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, well  _ step _ -sister. She always corrects us. I don’t think they get along. Why?”

“No reason.” Steve kept walking, his shoulders tense. “We’re just friends, is all.” Dustin furrowed his brows at Barb, who shrugged and continued to follow Steve. They walked in silence for a minute or two, Steve turning around to address Dustin.

“You’re not, like falling in love with this girl, are you?”

“No, no.”

“Okay, good. Don’t.” He began walking, yet again. “She’s only gonna break your heart and you’re way too young for that shit.” He threw a piece of meat with enough force it skidded and bounced in front of them. Dustin and Barb exchanged another look.

The three of them continued walking, continuing their trail.

“And the hair,” Barb began. “He uses some fancy shampoo and conditioner, but the  _ real _ secret, the one he’s  _ ever so _ ashamed of is-”

“Barbara, I  _ swear _ to  _ God _ -”

“Hey, I wanna hear what the secret is-”

“Farrah Fawcett hairspray.” There was a beat. Dustin began to crack a smile. “That’s why he always smells like a meadow, that’s the scent of it.” Dusting began laughing. Steve stalked off, his cheeks red.

“Farrah Fawcett?” Dustin yelled after him.

“Yeah, Farrah Fawcett, you tell anyone, she just told you that, and you’re ass is grass, you’re dead, Henderson, you understand me?” He was pointing a finger in Dustin’s face, a bit of meat stuck to the glove. Dustin nodded. Barb winked at him behind Steve’s back.

The sun was lowering in the sky by the time they arrived at the junkyard, Steve nodding at the land.

“Oh yeah, yeah this’ll do. This’ll do just fine.” He wandered down the hill. “Good call, dude.” Dustin beamed at Barb. She smiled back.  _ She _ may know how lame Steve is, but this kid was looking at him like he was the coolest person on God’s Green Earth.

They poured out the rest of the meat, being joined shortly by Lucas and Max, Dustin pulling Lucas behind a car to talk about the past few days.

“You’re Billy’s sister, right?” Max huffed at Steve.

“ _ Step _ -sister. We’re not actually related. My mom married his asshole dad.” She cut herself off, making herself busy finding scrap metal.

“What do you mean?” Barb helped her leverage the hood of a rusty old beater.

“Nothing. His dad’s just-he’s like Billy, kind of an asshole, quick to get angry, you know?” Steve’s brow was furrowed.

“I don’t-Billy’s not like that.” Max looked at him, one eyebrow raised, on hip stuck out, arms folded. “I just mean, we’re friends. He’s, well, he’s nice enough to us.” Max nodded.

“So  _ that’s  _ where he went on Friday. Neil was pissed he stayed out so late past curfew.” Barb and Steve exchanged a Look. Billy never mentioned anything about having a curfew. In fact, he only left  _ after _ Steve and Barb went to bed. “He must like you  _ a lot _ if he’s nice to you  _ and _ stays out late when he  _ knows _ he’s gonna get in trouble for it.” Max walked off, spotting a nice sheet of metal.

“See! I’m always right! Even Max says he likes you!”

“He’s nice to you too, Barb, him being  _ nice _ means jack shit.” He stalked off too, slamming a rusty folding chair against a car, alerting Dustin and Lucas and yelling at them to get their asses in gear, going on about how they  _ lose light in forty minutes! _

By the time the sun was sinking in the sky, they were holed up in the reinforced bus, biding their time and waiting for Dart.

He made an appearance before long, simply staring at the meat.

“He’s not takin’ the bait. Why is he not takin’ the bait?”

“Maybe he’s not hungry?” Dustin said in the darkness. Steve took a breath.

“Or maybe he’s sick of cow.” He stood stiffly, looking at Barb.

“Steve, no.” She stood as he turned around, making his way to the rusted door of the bus.

“Steve? Steve, what are you doing?” Dustin sounded panicked. Steve turned, holding up the lighter.

“Just get ready.” He tossed it to Barb and slid out of the bus, swinging the bat down by his shins.

He was egging the thing on, not even aware of  _ what _ he was saying as he dug his left foot into the dirt. The fog cleared and he came face to face with his worst nightmare in miniature. Lucas’s shrieks brought him back to his body, the  _ three o’clock! Three o’clock!  _ making him turn to see another one leap onto the remains of a car. He was surrounded. Dustin and Barb were yelling at him from the open door of the bus, Dustin’s  _ abort _ was drowned out by Barb’s bellow of  _ Steven! Get your ass back here! _

He ran, hitting one ‘dog with his bat, launching himself in the bus and planting his feet against the door. Blood was rushing in his ears, his hands were shaking. The only thing in his head was a scream of  _ protectprotectprotect _ . Claws punctured through the bus as Steve fought off one that had managed to break an arm through the door. He threw his body in front of Max’s, staring into the open face of the ‘dog on the roof, yelling right back at it’s roaring face.

Then everything stopped. The thing lept off the bus, running off with its friends. He checked the perimeter of the junkyard before the kids followed him out.

“What, happened?” Lucas had one arm in front of Max, keeping her behind him.

“I don’t know,” she said, looking around wearily.

“Steve scared ‘em off,” Dustin said it so matter of factly. Steve turned around, bat balanced on one shoulder.

“No. No way.” He turned, eyes skimming each of the kids before settling on Barb. “They’re goin’ somewhere.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington?” Steve laughed.
> 
> “Yeah, it’s me, don’t cream your pants.” Billy chuckled shutting the door and walking to meet Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr [@yikesharringrove](https://yikesharringrove.tumblr.com/)!

Billy was getting ready.

He had his music blaring as he fiddled with his hair, making sure the curl in front laid  _ just so _ over his forehead. He balanced his cigarette in his mouth, running his cologne-covered hand down his pants, depositing the scent in his patch of hair, imaging Steve’s nose buried in it while he swallowed him down.

He was going to Harrington’s tonight, again. Barb had invited him last time he was there, and he had a good feeling about Steve, figured he could be some fun while Billy was stuck in this hick shithole.

He shamelessly checked himself out, his tightest jeans, shirt almost completely open, he winked at himself, tongue between his teeth. He looked  _ good _ . Ready to flaunt himself to Harrington.

But of course, Susan interrupted. And of course, his dad got pissed off. And of course, he slapped the shit outta Billy and ordered her to find Max, like he was her  _ keeper _ , or some shit.

So he finds himself at the Sinclairs’ house, he knows Max has a jones for that Lucas, politely asking Mr. Sinclair if he’s seen Max around. He gets directed to the Wheelers’ house, not even a block away.

He takes a deep breath the second Mrs. Wheeler opens the door. He  _ knows _ how to do  _ this _ . Charming women is like his second nature, charming women who’s husbands ignore them, is his God-given _talent_. He looks her up and down, calls her  _ Nancy’s sister _ , makes sure to smile at her  _ just so _ , not too much teeth, just enough to say  _ I’ll only bite if you ask _ . He walks outta the house with an address, and an extra swagger in his hips. 

By the time he’s pulling into the Byers’ place, he’s over it. It’s been a long night. He was promised Steve Harrington, and yet all he’d gotten was a slap in the face and a bored housewife staring at his ass. 

The kids heard the rumble of the Camaro first, Max was keyed into the noise, the roar announcing Billy well before he could be seen. She ran to the window.

“It’s my brother.” She turned to Lucas. “He can’t know I’m here, he’ll kill me. He’ll kill  _ us _ .” Steve traded a look with Barb.

“I’ll talk to him.” He slipped out the door.

Billy hauled himself outta the car, cigarette dangling from his mouth. 

“Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington?” Steve laughed.

“Yeah, it’s me, don’t cream your pants.” Billy chuckled shutting the door and walking to meet Steve.

“What’re you doin’ here, amigo? Wasn’t I supposed to meet you at your place?” Steve’s smile fell.

“Shit, I forgot. I’m sorry, Bill, I got roped into babysitting.” Billy raised his eyebrows.

“Babysitting? You’re a regular mother hen, aren’t you?”

“Well, it’s kind of a, it was last minute.” Steve was fidgeting, arms wrapped to hug himself.

“Is everything okay?” Steve started chewing on his lip. 

“Come inside. We can talk. It’s cold out here.” Billy nodded, following Steve up and into the house, flicking his cigarette outside before shrugging off his jacket, throwing it at Max.

“There you are, Shitbird.” She caught the jacket, looking at him with wide eyes. “Give me a minute to talk to Steve, then we’re outta here.” Steve motioned with a tick of his head for Barb to follow. They ended up in what appeared to be Mrs. Byers’ bedroom.

“Look, Bill. The kids have been through a lot tonight. You think Max could stay?” Billy sighed.

“It’s not up to me. Her mom’s worried sick, and my dad is bein’ a real dick about it. I gotta get her home.”

“Maybe we can call her? I’ll pretend to be Mrs. Byers we can explain to max’s mom,” Barb offered.

“Explain what, though. Because I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Y’know that kid, Will Byers? He’s a friend of Max’s. Well, he’s sick, like  _ real _ sick, like his mom and brother just took him to the  _ emergency room _ typa sick. The kids are all worried about him and they want to stay together, here, so that they can all get any news when Mrs. Byers calls.” Even _Steve_ was surprised by how seamlessly he made up the story. 

“Shit, he gonna pull through?”

“We don’t know. That’s why all the kids want to be together, to comfort each other, in case of the worst.” Billy nodded at Barb, completely believing everything they told him. Steve  _ hated _ lying to Billy like this, but he wouldn’t believe the truth. He couldn’t just say  _ hey, you remember that big fuckin’ monster I drew on us? Yeah, well, those are real and we’re fighting mini ones and also I’m your soulmate! _

“Okay, let’s call Susan, see what she says.” Billy was still nodding, he reached up to pat Steve’s upper arm. “But if my dad says to come home, we gotta go.” It was Steve’s turn to nod. “Where’s the phon-” Billy was cut off by the roar of his car starting up. The tires squealing as it pulled out of the drive. “Did those little assholes just steal my fucking car?” Steve and Barb were already racing out of the room, Barb fumbling with the keys hanging from a hook on the wall, Steve grabbing his bat from where he had stashed it in the kitchen.

“Whoa, Pretty Boy, the hell is that  _ bat _ ?” Billy was following them, lost as hell. “Where are the kids fucking goin’? The hospital?” Meanwhile, Barb and Steve were ducking into Joyce’s little car, whispering to themselves.

“Should we leave him here?” Barb asked.

“I don’t think it’s safe to bring him with us.”

“Is it safe here for him though? If one comes do you think he’d be able to fight it?” Steve was assaulted with a mental image of Billy taking a demodog by two of the petal jaws and ripping it  _ right _ down the middle. He didn’t know why it was so sexy to him.

“Fine, you’re right.” He got out of the car. “Billy! Get in! We gotta get the kids!” Billy looked confused but scrambled into the backseat. Barb took off down the road to the pumpkin patch, Steve  _ praying _ that that’s where the kids went. They skidded to a halt in front of the Camaro, the trunk open, the kids getting their gear on. Steve flew out of the car.

“What the  _ fuck _ do you  _ idiots _ think you’re doing?” He shrieked. “You thought you would  _ steal _ Billys fucking  _ car _ and come down here to fight the fucking demodogs yourself? Do you understand how fucking  _ stupid  _ that is? And what if you fuckers had been  _ killed _ ? When  _ Barb and I _ were  _ watching _ you? Get in the fucking car, we are  _ leaving _ .” The kids just kept getting things ready around his yelling, Barb and Billy had joined him now, Billy just watching with his brows furrowed, _utterly_ confused. Mike was attaching a rope to the Camaro, the kids holding gas cans, goggles and scarves covering their faces. “This ends, right now!”

“Steve!” Dustin finally acknowledged him. “You’re upset, I get it. But the bottom line is: a party member requires assistance, and it is  _ our _ duty to provide that assistance. Now, I know you and Barb promised Nance that you would keep us safe,” Dustin took the bat from where Steve had abandoned it on the ground “so keep us  _ safe _ .” Steve’s jaw moved from side to side. He took the bat.

“Fine.” Dustin smiled. “But you guys, stay up here.” Dustin’s face fell again. “Barb, Billy, you’re with me.” He turned and stalked off, snatching a gas can from Mike and looking into the pit. Barb followed with a sigh, taking Dustin’s gas and tea towel, covering her face before grabbing another for Steve, shoving a pair of goggles onto his head.

“Sorry, I have no idea what the  _ fuck _ is happening.”

“Basically, everything I already told you is a lie. Will is possessed by an inter-dimensional monster, another kid, El, went with Chief Hopper to close the  _ portal _ between dimensions with the  _ mind powers _ she has because she was an experiment at a secret government facility in Hawkins Lab, and we are gonna go into these fucking  _ tunnels _ to burn them and hopefully draw some of the  _ smaller _ monsters away from her so she can shut this thing.” Steve turned back to the pit, digging with a small shovel he took from Lucas. Billy looked at Max who nodded, chewing on her lip.

“Okay. Sounds good.” He took Max’s gas can, taking her scarf and goggles as well.

“Wait, you, I mean, It’s just  _ that _ easy?”

“Yeah, Pretty Boy. I trust you.” He went back into the trunk of his car, digging around a bit before coming back up with a crowbar. “You got a light, Stevie?” He nodded. “Then let’s burn some fuckin’ monsters.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was cold in the tunnels.
> 
> The air was still, stale, and dead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO sorry this is coming a day late, it was my mom's birthday so I was doing a whole bunch of stuff for her. This baby is REAL short too, but we got GOOD stuff coming next Saturday! ;)
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr [@yikesharringrove](https://yikesharringrove.tumblr.com/)!

It was cold in the tunnels.

The air was still, stale, and dead. 

Steve was shivering in his jacket, not sure how Billy was walking so lazily in his open shirt.

“This way.” Barb was leading the pack, holding the rudimentary map Mike had created. They walked for a little bit, following the tunnels.

“Is it just me, or are the walls,  _ moving _ ?” Billy asked after a minute. Steve turned around to see him looking at a large spore. He poked it.

Immediately, it shot out at him, releasing gas and liquid and particles  _ right  _ into Billy’s face.

“That’s fucking DISGUSTING.” Billy had pulled his scarf down and was spitting.

“Maybe don’t touch stuff in the spooky hell tunnels.” Barb sounded absolutely bored.

“Yes, thank you, Barbara.” He was wiping some of the goop of his chest, buttoning his shirt up for good measure.

“Christ, you sound like Steve.” She rolled her eyes and continued trudging along. 

It took them, what felt like an hour to reach the hub, the large open space the tunnels all gathered too. They began methodically drenching everything, emptying all the gas they had on them along the walls, floor, and even the roof above. They poured until the scent of gasoline overpowered the stench of cold decay in the air. They tossed the empties in the center of the space.

“Alright, Stevie. Light her up.” Billy said from somewhere behind him. He put on hand out, Barb’s finding his and squeezing, the bat in her other hand. He flicked open his zippo.

“I am in such deep shit.” Billy cackled and he flicked it on, mentally kissing the trusty thing goodbye and tossing it. It found its home near the empty cans, quickly setting the gas ablaze, tentacles detaching themselves from the surface to writhe in the flame. 

“Let’s go, let’s go, LET’S GO!” Steve yelled over the pained screams that seemed to be emanating from the tunnel walls. Billy grabbed his free hand, yanking him through the tunnels, now holding the map and guiding as best as he could. Steve was clinging onto Barb’s other hand, squeezing with a death grip. 

A slippery vine darted out, wrapping quickly around Steve’s ankle and taking him to the tunnel floor. He screamed out. 

Billy was quick into action, slamming the crowbar down on the thing once, twice, three times, severing the thing entirely. It fell away from his ankle, Barb grabbing him and hauling him up, wrapping the arm not holding the bat around him. 

“ _ Fuck,  _ B. I really hate being down here.” He shivered. She eventually pulled back and patted his stomach.

“We have to keep going. We’re almost out of here.”

“You okay, Pretty Boy?” Billy was gripping his arm.

“Yeah. I’m okay. Let’s just get the fuck outta here.” They walked quickly, navigating through the tunnels as fast as they could. 

Growling started behind them, the chirping of ‘dogs and the snapping of jaws echoing through the tunnels. They broke out into a sprint, the ground shaking with the fleet of ‘dogs thundering towards them. They reached the rope, Steve boosting Barb up as she clawed her way back into Hawkins, the kids shouting and pulling her out of the pit. The ‘dogs rounded the corner, Steve's ears were ringing. Billy grabbed him, holding Steve close and turning his back to the demodogs descending around them, ready to take the blow. 

Nothing happened. 

The ‘dogs went on either side of the boys.

Ignoring them and running on. 

When they cleared, Billy pushed Steve up the rope, clambering out behind him. They gasped for air, laying side by side in the dirt, pulling off their goggles and scarves. 

“ _ Fuck _ , Pretty Boy. I thought we were  _ goners _ .” Billy was grinning at Steve when he turned his head. The two burst out laughing, finally sitting up. Dustin threw himself to Steve, hugging him and yelling about how he thought he was going to die, Max doing the same to Billy. Barb only relieved Steve of Dustin to pull him into her instead. She was shaking wildly, and Steve thought she was crying. He sat there and held her, soothing away her worries. The lights flared, the headlights seeming to glow brighter and brighter, forcing everyone to shield their eyes.The lights dimmed to normal.

“She did it,” Mike said, awed. “El closed the gate.”

They split into the cars, Billy taking his own with Max and Lucas. Barb and Dustin and Mike joined Steve in Mrs. Byers’. Nobody spoke. Too tired, too panicked to know what to say. 

They returned to the Byers’ house, meeting Mrs. Byers and Jonathan and Will and Nancy, the kids crowding to Will while Steve swept up Nancy, passing her off to Barb to hug Jonathan, trading him for Mrs. Byers. Billy was quiet, didn’t really know where he fits into this family unit. Until Steve came over, taking his upper arm and mumbling  _ you wanna smoke _ . Billy said yes and they found themselves sitting on the back porch, sharing a cigarette. 

“You fought these things before?” Steve nodded slowly. His hand shook as he took a drag.

“Last year. One  _ way _ bigger than those fuckers. Climbed through the living room wall just in there.” He gestured to the house. “Jonathan got photos of one sneakin’ through my backyard, too.”

Billy looked at him. Steve’s eyes looked empty, the light that was usually in them put out. He reached his arm over Steve’s shoulders, drawing him into his side. Steve collapsed into him, his breathing heavy.

“You’re a brave fuckin’ guy, Steve.” He murmured into his hair, running his hand up and down Steve’s back.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His eyes skimmed along, finding a lighter image, the kids huddled together on the couch in the Byers’ living room. He flicked through a stack of sketches, seeing several of Barb, captured in simple moments, laughing, crying, an eyebrow raised at Steve. There was a portrait of Jonathan and Nancy, tangled around one another, sleeping in the same armchair, and a charcoal of who Billy guessed were Steve’s parents. He began thumbing through a small stack to the left, his heart stuttering when he saw himself, lazily leaning back against Steve’s bed, a still from Friday night. He saw himself smoking on the Byers’ porch, holding the crowbar, red shirt open, cigarette hanging from his smirking lips. 
> 
> -
> 
> Steve is having a hard time, Barb is a good friend, Billy pines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr [@yikesharringrove](https://yikesharringrove.tumblr.com/)!

Mrs. Byers had called Neil Hargrove, explaining the situation (the lie Steve had come up with) and offering endless apologies, saying that Billy had been  _ much _ too busy comforting  _ his sister _ to call home. 

Neil still hit Billy when he arrived home, gave him a few slaps and some choice words before he allowed him to go to bed. Billy stripped off, stumbling into the shower to wipe off any excess  _ goo _ on him before crawling into bed, naked and exhausted. Steve had told him  _ everything _ , from Will Byers vanishing to the Upside Down, to what he knew about El and Hawkins Lab, which was, admittedly, not a  _ lot _ . 

Too much had happened today, fights with his dad, getting pissed off at Max, getting ready to see (seduce) Steve, ending up in those  _ tunnels _ , and finding his fucking soulmate.

Billy  _ knew _ it was Steve.

The monster on his leg a few weeks ago, the product of PTSD left behind by  _ burning _ one of those things alive. Only four people had fought that thing, Nancy and Jonathan had confirmed one another, and Barb’s skin didn’t match his own. Steve  _ had _ to be  _ his _ . It made so much click into place, the drawings of empty rooms, the boy practically lived alone. The misspelled words, he had  _ heard  _ Barb mention him being dyslexic. And the panic, the way he  _ carved _ the demogorgon into their flesh. It clicked.

But Steve didn’t know it was him, for one, he never said  _ he _ when referring to the author of the poems. And of course, there was the moment at the end of the night he spent getting high in Steve’s room with him and Barb when he said he thought his soulmate was in love with someone else. He knew Billy was unattached, drifting along until he found his person. 

_ He breaks his own heart a lot, too. _

Barb had said that the same night. So no, Steve didn’t know they were each others’. So he devised a plan. He would watch Steve tomorrow, write something where he could see it appear, confirm Steve was  _ his _ before swooping in. He fell asleep quickly, dreaming of ink monsters and tunnels.

Steve wasn’t at school the next day. 

To be honest, after the night they had all had, Billy had wanted to ditch as well. But, his dad wouldn’t hear it.

He plopped down his packed lunch in front of Nancy, sliding in next to Barb. He noticed Jonathan missing as well.

“Being here, today, feels like the worst thing in the fuckin’ world.” Nancy hummed in agreement.

“It makes it feel like last night was all just a horrible dream.” She poked at her food. Billy wasn’t very hungry either.

“This is how it felt last year, too. I kept thinking  _ there are monsters everywhere, what even IS the point of all this? _ ” Barb added. 

“Byers spendin’ time with his family?” Billy asked Nancy. 

“Yeah, he wanted to be there for them. Keep on eye on Will. He’s doing much better, but it’s still scary.”

“I bet. I think I’d shit twice and die if Maxine ever got possessed by some shit like that. They’re a strong bunch over there.”

“Joyce Byers is the single most badass person I have ever met, and that includes you.” Barb gave him a sharp look. Billy laughed softly.

“Yeah, she’s a spitfire. I like her. She sent me home with leftover pie.” Nancy giggled.

“She must have sent Steve with half her fridge. He had like, eight containers. I think she thinks he doesn’t eat enough.” Barb had driven Steve home last night, Billy having to do damage control with his dad.

“How  _ is _ Stevie?” Barb bit the inside of her cheek.

“He’s not doing too hot. He had another panic attack when we got to his house, and another one this morning. The monster stuff is  _ really _ hard on him. I pretended to be his mom and called him out of school for the week.”

“Do you think, I mean, would it be okay if I went over there? He seems like, maybe he’d like some company?” Billy didn’t want to push his limits, but Barb smiled softly at him.

“He’d really like it if you went and saw him. He gets really lonely, and I’m sure he’s just stirring himself up into a panic as we speak.” Billy nodded, his mind made up.

He was going to give Steve time. He needed to calm a bit, find some reprieve from their latest waking nightmare before Billy pulls the rug out from under him. Telling Steve can wait; he wants to make sure his pretty boy is okay first. 

He headed over to Steve’s right after school, following Barb’s car there. They park in the driveway, Barb stopping him before they went in.

“So, this could be really bad, this could be pretty okay. I don’t really know where his head is at right now, so we just have to love him through it.” Billy nodded, determined. They entered the house, softly calling out for Steve. As they climbed the stairs, they could hear music,  _ feel _ the thump of the beat through the stairs.

“I know where he is.” Barb sighed, leading Billy down the hall, past Steve’s room, past the guest room reserved for Barb, past bathrooms and guest rooms that have hardly been touched, stopping at a door. She opened it, the music swelling and climbed a short flight of stairs into the spacious attic.

When Steve first began displaying his aptitude for art, his parents did what they always do and threw some money at him, allowing him to clean up the attic, put some old furniture up there, and have a makeshift art studio. He had drawers stocked with paints, an array of brushes on a large shelf, canvases, easels, clay, pastels, charcoal, anything he could ever need. He kept the windows thrown wide, helping the attic to not be quite so stuffy and had old art everywhere. 

Steve didn’t like people being in his studio, didn’t like people seeing his work. Barb was one of the only people outside of his parents that even knew the room  _ existed _ , and even then, he’s not sure his  _ dad _ even knew, too busy not  _ caring _ about Steve to clue into his interests. 

He didn’t hear them come in, too focused on a large canvas he had propped against the far wall, detailing the open jaws of a demodog, it’s legs tense, ready to pounce. Billy could  _ see _ the strings of saliva pulling between each flap of its jaw, and had to turn away from the thing, the image far too realistic. He began looking at the other art, most of the new paintings laid out to dry, the sketches sitting on a long table, were of the monsters, the ‘dogs from different angles, mouths open, mouths closed. They were unnerving and realistic and completely  _ beautiful _ in a way that was terrifying to Billy. His eyes skimmed along, finding a lighter image, the kids huddled together on the couch in the Byers’ living room. He flicked through a stack of sketches, seeing several of Barb, captured in simple moments, laughing, crying, an eyebrow raised at Steve. There was a portrait of Jonathan and Nancy, tangled around one another, sleeping in the same armchair, and a charcoal of who Billy  _ guessed _ were Steve’s parents. He began thumbing through a small stack to the left, his heart stuttering when he saw himself, lazily leaning back against Steve’s bed, a still from Friday night. He saw himself smoking on the Byers’ porch, holding the crowbar, red shirt open, cigarette hanging from his smirking lips. 

Billy’s favorite was leaning against the table teg, tucked behind some blank canvases. It was a painting of Billy and Steve, Billy using his body to cover Steve’s own, the moment from the tunnel when Billy was ready to be shredded apart for Steve Harrington.

Billy didn’t know  _ exactly _ when he had fallen in love with Steve, all he knew was that he did, and he never wanted to love  _ anyone _ else. 

Steve whirled around when Barb turned off the tape player. His hair was messy, paint all over his clothes, a t-shirt and overalls Billy was immediately  _ obsessed _ with. His eyes were wild behind the cutest pair of big glasses Billy has ever seen, flicking from Billy to Barb to his newest paintings.

“What’s up, Steve?” Barb asked, ever so coolly.

“Um, I uh, I just needed to, you know, get it all out.” He gestured with his brush to the images of demodogs, the tunnels, and even one dark piece of the Mind Flayer Billy hadn’t noticed. He didn’t look at it very long, feeling uneasy in his stomach just from the canvas.

“You’re very talented.” Billy looked at him intently, Steve’s face went a deep shade of red.

“Yeah well, it’s about the  _ only _ thing I’m good at, so,” he trailed off, dumping his brush in a bowl of water and scrubbing it against his knuckles. 

“Steve, c’mon. Don’t say that about yourself. Weren’t you working on  _ not _ talking poorly about yourself?” Barb’s voice was softer than Billy knew it could go.

“Yeah, well, my dad called today.  _ Did you pull your grades up? _ No dad, not quite.  _ Well, what’s the problem?  _ I’ve just been struggling.  _ Then pull your idiot head out of your ass and figure your shit out, Steven _ .” Steve adopted a deeper voice when quoting his father, his hands moving faster along the brush. “I just wanted to yell at him that I could’ve  _ died _ last night, that I was fucking chased by  _ monsters _ straight from  _ Hell _ but the sad part is, the fucking  _ sad _ part is, I don’t even think he’d fucking notice if I  _ had _ .” He threw the brush, it cracked off the wall. He stared at it for a second before his knees seemed to give out. 

Barb was to him in a flash, supporting him on his way down as he sobbed, loudly and openly. Billy joined the pile, wrapping his arms around Steve’s shaking form. 

The three of them sat there for some time, the November air breezing through the room, the painted ‘dogs snarling at them. They sat until Steve quieted, until his shaking stopped, until he was able to breathe deeply.

“My whole world would end if you were gone,” Barb said quietly. “I wouldn’t know what to do, who to be without you.” It was quiet after she spoke. The words sinking into Steve, saturating him. “You are so loved. So loved by so many.” He was crying again, Barb’s words thick with her own tears. Billy’s heart broke for Steve, he  _ understood _ shitty fathers. He  _ understood _ the feeling of _ if I die, will he mourn? _

It took Steve a while to calm down. His father just  _ had _ to call at the worst possible time, when Steve was already feeling shitty and fragile from the night before. And here was Billy, silently holding onto Steve, strong arms keeping him safe. He knew Billy had to recognize the art, the  _ style _ , the demogorgon scabbed on both of their thighs stared down at them from an old canvas. Billy had to  _ know _ , now, and it made Steve feel worse, that Billy was going to pull away, out of Steve’s life. Would Billy let him down gently? Or would he just flee?

“I’m sorry,” Steve croaked, his face planted on Barb’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”  _ For breaking down, for being a mess, for being unloved, for being lonely, for being  _ yours,  _ Billy. _

“Don’t you  _ dare _ apologize to us, Pretty Boy.” Billy’s voice was firm, left no room for argument. His arms were tight around Steve, and he hated himself for melting into the touch.

Steve began squirming, Barb and Billy letting him go. 

“I wanna get outta here.” Steve just stood up, leaving the studio and walking back down to the ground floor of the house. Barb followed, resigned, and Billy watched with raised eyebrows as Steve shoved his feet into some shoes by the door and wrestled on a big sweatshirt. He tossed Billy’s keys to him. “You know how to get to the quarry?”

Billy had never been to this part of Hawkins. The roads gave way to dirt and gravel, service roads mostly used for trucks hauling rocks. Barb directed him to the upper part as Steve sat in the back of the Camaro, slumped on his side across the bench seats. 

By the time the car pulled off the service road, the sun was sinking in the sky. Billy’s throat tightened. 

He had seen this before, this exact scene painted on his leg. The quarry, from this exact spot,  _ the best spot here _ Barb had said,  _ Steve’s favorite spot _ . They got out of the car, Billy leading them to join him on the hood of his car, Steve sitting in the middle. They were quiet.

“My dad isn’t letting me work for him.” Barb looked at Steve, eyebrows furrowed. “He says the deal is off. Doesn’t want a, a  _ fucking retard _ working for him anyway.” Steve was pulling at the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“Jesus,” Barb murmured. “Piece of shit really has great timing, doesn’t he?”

“He call you that a lot?” Billy lit up a cigarette, needing to do something with his hands, wanting to find Steve’s dad and  _ tear _ him in _ half _ . 

“Yeah, he does. It’s not like he’s wrong though.”

“Yes, he is! He is entirely wrong!” Barb’s eyes flashed, Billy was almost scared of her. Steve looked at her.

“You know I can’t even fucking  _ read _ , Barb. I’m a fucking idiot and he’s  _ right _ .” Her jaw tightened.

“First of all: He shouldn’t be throwing  _ that _ word around at all, and he’s a piece of shit for it. Second of all, you’re dyslexic. You can read, it’s just  _ more difficult _ for you. And thanks to him, you never received any help for it because he wouldn’t  _ let _ you get help, and he’s a piece of shit for  _ that _ . And third of all, you are smart as hell. Take your art, you can see detail like nobody else. You understand exactly how many layers go into something to make it look  _ real _ and  _ beautiful _ . You understand light, and shadow, and how to make a drawing look three dimensional. You get people, you know when people are upset, just because you get a  _ gut feeling _ . You’re smart as  _ fuck _ Steve, just because you’re not good at school, does NOT mean you’re stupid, and he is a complete and total piece of  _ shit _ for making you think that.” Steve slid off the hood of the car, pacing in front of it, hands running through his hair. “And you’re not allowed to argue with me, because I’m always right.” She finished, leaning back against the windshield. 

Billy sucked on the cigarette.

“She’s right.” Steve looked at him. “She’s completely right. Smart is a relative term. I’m good at reading and math and writing. That’s not me being  _ smart _ , that’s me being  _ good  _ at something. You’re good at art and being kind. That makes you  _ smart _ at art and being kind. I’m an asshole on the best of days, can’t draw for shit, that makes you the smartest person here  _ at those things _ .” He took another drag, spitting smoke into the air. “Besides, dads are only good for making us feel like shit about ourselves. Don’t give him that power.” Barb turned to him.

“Your dad’s bad too?” He just nodded. 

“He always has some very  _ special _ words in mind when it comes to me. Bit old school in the way he  _ teaches his lessons _ .” Steve’s eyes were big.

“He hits you.” Billy just nodded again, looking out over the water. “ _ Fuck _ .” Steve sat on the edge of the hood, looking at Billy. “Like, a lot?”

“Define  _ a lot _ .”

“Like, once a week.”

“Then yeah. A lot. Honestly, it’s most days. Usually just a slap here or there, but sometimes he’s  _ mad _ and sometimes it’s  _ worse _ .” Billy’s hands were shaking now. He stared at them.

“Have you ever-shit Bill, you ever tried telling someone?”

“Just told you, didn’t I?”

“That’s not what I mean.” Billy sighed, flicking away the butt of his cigarette. 

“Yeah, talked to cops. Old neighbor once called CPS, but they couldn’t  _ prove _ anything, so nothing happened.” Billy shrugged like  _ somehow _ this was No Big Deal. 

“Shit, Bill. I’m  _ sorry _ . I’m sorry you have to deal with that, and, and that you had to listen to me  _ whine _ all day about my dad, I mean, I’m sorry for being  _ selfish _ .”

“Shut your fucking mouth with that. Just because my dad gets physical doesn’t make it  _ worse _ . It’s not a fucking competition of whose dad abuses them more. Bottom line is, both our dads can fuck themselves for the shit they put us through.” Steve swallowed, nodding. “Can’t fucking  _ wait  _ to turn eighteen. Gonna graduate, become a fucking  _ adult _ , then I’m packing up this car and I’m never even gonna  _ think _ about him again.” He leaned against the windshield looking up at the stars now beginning to appear in the night sky.

Steve’s heart shattered even more. Billy wanted nothing to do with this town, or anyone in it, he made that nice and clear. He felt like he was going to cry again, but he didn’t  _ want _ to. Had shed too many tears today. 

“Where would you go?” Barb’s voice was soft.

“Home. California. I’m gonna apply to colleges out there, think I can get some scholarships.” Steve was trying not to lose his mind, already feeling abandoned, even though this was over a  _ year and a half _ away. He wasn’t looking at Billy, didn’t see the way his face turned to him. “You two wanna come with?” Steve startled.

“Wait, like  _ seriously _ ?”

“Yeah, Pretty Boy, why not? You, me, Barb. Take Cali by storm.” He knocked his fist against Barb’s arm. “Your girl can come too, although maybe she’s already out there.”

“ _ God _ , one can only hope.” She turned her eyes to the sky. “The UC schools are all pretty good. I was already thinking of Stanford, too.” She turned to Billy, grinning. “I’m in. Let’s go to California. You know, in like, two summers.” Billy laughed knocking his foot into Steve’s thigh.

“What about you, Stevie? You apply to anywhere out there?” Steve swallowed. 

“Um, yeah. There’s a- there’s an art school in San Francisco. Barb has been helping me with my portfolio and applications and essays and everything.”

“You’re a senior though, right? Barb and I can meet you out there. I’ll go to Berkley, we can live in the Bay together, and Barb can come up on weekends, drag her girl along too. We’ll get a cat and you can paint all day.” Steve tried not to fall too hard into this idyllic California daydream. Tried not to imagine how tan Billy would get, what their apartment would look like. He tried not to picture a one-bedroom, curling into Billy’s solid warmth every night, a small cat tangling in their legs. “You gonna study studio art?”

“No, um Barb had an idea for me, maybe like art education? So I could, like, teach it?”

“God, Stevie, that’s  _ perfect _ for you.” He turned. “Good  _ job _ , Barb.” She smiled proudly at Steve. “What're you lookin’ into?”

“Political science. A lot of universities have also begun offering courses on Women’s Studies, which I’d also love to check out as well. What about you?” Billy smiled at her, all teeth on display.

“No fuckin’ idea.” She laughed, sounding surprised. Billy joined in, and Steve found himself laughing as well. 

They sat there, under the stars, dreaming of their California and  _ laughing _ , monsters in their pasts, and hope in their futures. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks in Hawkins and Billy was about to tear his skin off. All he wanted to do was write. He wanted to cover himself with words and find any kind of solace he could in the drawings that would surface in their wake. 
> 
> But the Hawkins basketball team had group showers, often with the Hawkins swim team after conditioning and strength training, and Billy still wasn’t ready for Steve to know.
> 
> He had been doing better since that night, but the panic was still there. He spent most lunches in the study room in the library, trying to breathe deeply, reminding himself where he was, that the gate is closed. Barb would join him, Billy filtering a little later. They would quietly do homework, just sitting with Steve, just so he wasn’t alone. 
> 
> So Billy kept his mouth shut, and Steve kept his heart broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr [@yikesharringrove](https://yikesharringrove.tumblr.com/)!

Two weeks in Hawkins and Billy was about to tear his skin off. All he wanted to do was  _ write _ . He wanted to cover himself with words and find any kind of solace he could in the drawings that would surface in their wake. 

But the Hawkins basketball team had group showers, often with the Hawkins  _ swim team _ after conditioning and strength training, and Billy  _ still _ wasn’t ready for Steve to know.

He had been doing better since  _ that night _ , Billy had found him most days in the studio, but the demogorgons had been shelved for a few landscapes, a new portrait of Barb, and even a new one of Billy, smoking against the hood of his car, face turned up and illuminated by moonlight. Steve always had this way of depicting Billy so  _ soft _ , he always looked  _ happy _ . Billy didn’t know if Steve was just painting him like  _ that _ , or if it’s how he really  _ looked _ every time he was around Steve. 

But the panic was still there. He spent most lunches in the study room in the library, trying to breathe deeply, reminding himself where he was, that the gate is _closed_. Barb would join him, Billy filtering a little later. They would quietly do homework, just _sitting_ with Steve, just so he wasn’t _alone._

So Billy kept his mouth  _ shut _ , and Steve kept his heart  _ broken _ . He  _ knew _ that Billy had figured it out, his silence about the matter just proving with each passing day that he didn’t  _ want  _ Steve. 

“But you can’t be  _ sure _ that he knows,” Barb said. She was sitting on the couch, Steve’s head in her lap. They were waiting for Billy, Friday night movie nights had become a bit of a Thing. 

“He’s seen my art. I’d bet my left testicle he’s put two and two together.”

“Please don’t tell me about your testicles. And you can’t be  _ sure _ he’s put it together. Your style is hyper-realistic, many people draw like that.”

“Sure, but do many people draw hyper-realistic fucking  _ demogorgons _ ? I think  _ not _ , Barbara.” She tugged on his hair a little. He whined. 

“I don’t know, he’s  _ kind of  _ an idiot sometimes like whe-” she cut herself off as the door opened and slammed, Billy’s heavy boots clear in the entryway. It was like a physical wave of  _ foul mood _ flowed  _ right _ from Billy. He kicked off his boots, the thud of the heavy things clearly audible before he did his best stomping into the sitting room in his wool socks on plush, expensive carpet. 

“You okay, Bill?” Steve’s voice was quiet as Billy picked up his legs, slumping himself on the couch, gently placing them on his lap.

“Just fucking  _ peachy _ .” He wasn’t looking at either of them, so they exchanged a Look.

“You wanna  _ talk _ or…” Steve trailed off as Billy huffed. 

“Today’s my mom’s birthday.” He said it like he was spitting out something bitter,  _ disgusting _ . “So my dad got  _ shitfaced _ and decided to tell me, like he  _ always does _ , that it’s  _ my _ fault she left. That she could  _ tell _ I’m a  _ no-good fuckin’ queer _ and left, like he was  _ somehow _ a saint to her, like he never beat her around or  _ anything _ .” He sank back into the couch. “So happy birthday to her. Hope she’s havin’ a  _ great  _ day.” He had one hand around Steve’s left ankle, his grip tensing and relaxing as though he kept having to remind himself  _ not _ to grab on too hard. 

He was twitchy, energy practically  _ crackling _ off him. 

“So, we’ve got a few options here: we can watch the movies I rented after school, OR, we can go for a drive, get out of Hawkins for a little bit.” Billy eyed Barb.

“And go  _ where _ ?” Steve sat up, wiggling around a little like he did when he was excited. Billy thought it was unbearably  _ cute _ , even in his  _ mood _ .

“Indy. We can go to Indianapolis. There’s like, actual  _ stuff _ to do there.” Steve’s joyful excitement was making Billy feel  _ less _ like he wanted to tear his own skin off. 

“Sure, Pretty Boy. But I’m driving.” Steve zoomed off upstairs with a shout of  _ I’m gonna change! _ Billy and Barb could hear him clattering about in his room, they shared a look and laughed when there was a loud thump followed by a  _ fuck _ . Steve raced back down, little shorts and old T-shirt swapped out for a nice sweater and his  _ good _ jeans, the ones that made Billy want to  _ bite  _ into that little peach ass.

He dived into the backseat of the Camaro, stretching out while Barb took the front, Billy revving the engine and tearing towards the Hawkins town limits. They chattered as the music played, a mixtape Billy had made a year or so ago, songs he remembered his mom singing. He only listened to it this time of year.

“What’s with this hippie vibe you’ve got? I was expecting some pure Twisted Sister  _ rage _ .” Barb turned the music down, just a little, Fleetwood Mac singing about  _ breaking the chain. _

“This is some shit my mom liked. She was a  _ total _ fuckin’ hippie.” Barb laughed. 

“Somehow I really see that for you.”

“It’s because of my free-lovin’ attitude and my sunny disposition.” He grinned at Barb while she laughed loudly. The song clicked over, the poppy synth and drums of The Doors blasting. Steve  _ gasped _ . 

“You better turn this one  _ up _ .” He was leaning forward between the two front seats, waiting for the lyrics to kick. 

The three of them  _ screamed _ along with the song  _ c’mon c’mon c’mon c’mon, now touch me, babe!  _ As the pay flew down the highway. 

Being with Steve and Barb, giggling at one another while they sang loud and shrill, it made Billy feel  _ invincible _ . 

They ended up crashing a college party, Steve batting his eyelashes so  _ sweetly _ at the stoned kid manning the front door and they were  _ in _ . 

It was a pretty fun party. Billy and Steve got zooted almost  _ immediately _ , finding the stoners quickly. Barb stayed sober, rolling her eyes and declaring  _ someone has to drive us home _ . 

Steve was in a  _ good mood _ . Doing shots with some random punky looking girl, pressing two into Billy’s hand, giggling and slurring  _ c’mon, Bill _ to which Billy was  _ powerless _ . They were dancing, lost in the crowd, moving together, singing along with Elton John. Steve laughed into Billy’s shoulder when he shook out his hair, mouthing  _ Saturday night’s alright _ . They found Barb talking to some girl. She was cute, in a grunge sorta way. Steve pulled him away quickly, eyes  _ wide _ . 

“Barb  _ never _ talks to cute girls.” He looked back over Billy's shoulder, where he could see Barb talking to the girl nervously, her hands fidgeting. “This is so  _ great _ .” He was smiling like a little kid, eyes crinkling at the sides. Billy couldn’t  _ resist _ .

So he leaned in, and just, kissed Steve. Steve made a startled noise, melting into Billy, his hands gripping Billy’s forearms, his hands on either side of his face. Steve pulled back and Billy  _ realized _ what he had just  _ done _ . 

Steve’s eyes were  _ wide _ . He didn’t really  _ know  _ what to do.  _ Of course _ , he wanted Billy, but he knew Billy didn’t want him in the  _ same way _ . He was probably just  _ bored _ and wanted a hookup and Steve, Steve would take whatever he would get. 

He took Billy by the hand and led him upstairs, searching for an empty bedroom. His heart was  _ pounding _ . They found an empty room, the lock clicking into place behind them. Billy was on him  _ right away _ . Kissing, sucking,  _ biting _ at his neck. Steve moaned into the touch, letting his body relax into Billy’s, his back against the door. 

Billy’s hands were  _ everywhere _ . In his hair, on his hips, rucking up his sweater. Steve felt like he was on  _ fire _ as Billy picked him up, taking him to the bed against the corner.

“You ever been with a guy before?” Billy asked, his voice low,  _ sultry  _ in his ear.

“No. Never, never been with  _ anyone _ before.” Billy pulled back, his blues eyes wide and shining in the dim light.

“You, you’re a  _ virgin _ ?” Steve was red as he nodded, biting his bottom lip. Billy was looking at him, his face unreadable. “Are you  _ sure _ you wanna do this?” Steve nodded again.

“Yeah, Bill. I’m sure.” Billy dived back in, kissing him nice and sloppy, tasting the soft noises Steve let out. He kept one hand in his hair, his nails scratching softly as the other trailed down, dipping underneath his sweater, feeling his breath hitch as he felt up his ribs, his thumb flicking lightly at his nipple.

Steve moved to take the sweater off, hands going for Billy’s next, undoing the buttons clumsily, hands shaking. Billy stopped him.

“Are you  _ sure _ about this? You don’t have to. You can tell me to  _ stop _ , Sweet Thing.” 

“I, I want it. Want  _ you _ .” Billy helped him get his shirt all the way off, kissing down Steve’s body as he undid his belt, his jeans. Steve moaned, his back arching when Billy took him into his mouth, bobbing his head, sucking on the length of him. Steve didn’t know what to do with his hands, had them fluttering about at Billy’s shoulders. Billy took them, put one in his hair, the other he laced with his own. 

Steve was  _ immediately _ close to orgasm, the feeling of someone’s mouth, of  _ Billy’s mouth _ around him, way better than he  _ ever _ could’ve imagined. He tugged on Billy’s hair.

“‘M close, Bill.” Billy came off his dick with a pop, spit and precum dripping down his chin. It was so  _ hot. _ “Don’t wanna finish yet.” Billy grinned, sliding back up Steve’s body, his jeans rough against Steve’s bare skin. 

“Don’t worry, Pretty Boy. I’m not done with you.” He ground his hips down, settling between Steve’s legs. Steve gasped at the feeling of the denim, Billy’s hard cock against his own. Billy pushed his thighs up, spreading him open. One hand trailed down, circling his hole gently, the other still intertwined with Steve’s. “You ever touch yourself here? Put a finger inside?” Steve shook his head, face flushed. “Then I’ll be nice and gentle.” He brought his hand back up, settling it at Steve’s lips, pressing two fingers into his mouth. 

Steve sucked on them, eyes wide, blinking up at him slowly. Billy was staring at him darkly, tongue licking slowly over his bottom lip. He drew his fingers out, returning to circling them around Steve’s entrance. 

“You tell me to stop, I will.” He pressed one  _ in _ , Steve’s own spit easing the way. “Just  _ relax _ for me.” Steve was trying to stay boneless, the pressure of a finger pressing into him was  _ odd _ . “ _ Breathe _ for me, Honey. There you go.” Steve hadn’t even  _ realized _ he had been holding his breath.

“You can, I can take another one.” Steve was breathy, Billy’s finger pumping in and out of him slowly. The spit on Billy’s finger had gone tacky, dry. He pulled off of Steve,  _ out _ of Steve, going through the bedside drawer. 

“Okay, this’ll work.” He unscrewed the lip from the jar of plain Vaseline. “Just don’t want you to get  _ hurt _ .” Steve felt his dick twitch at Billy’s soft words, the idea of being taken  _ care of _ . He spread the Vaseline on his fingers, slowly easing two in, his other hand rubbing slowly up and down Steve’s chest, reminding him to breathe, to  _ relax _ . 

Two fingers were  _ much _ more of a stretch than one, the pull causing a slight burn. Billy was staring at his face, trying to read any discomfort there. He was to the knuckle when he curled his fingers, sending a jolt through Steve’s spine.

“What, what  _ was _ that?” Billy looked pleased, sitting on his heels between Steve’s spread legs, dick tenting his jeans. He curled his fingers again, digging into that  _ spot _ , whatever it was, making Steve writhe and moan, any pain  _ long _ forgotten, a third finger prodding at his rim. 

“Your prostate. Basically just a bunch of sensitive nerves.” Steve could barely hear him over his own noises. “You’re so  _ loud _ , Pretty Boy. I  _ love  _ it.” He grinned wickedly when Steve sobbed out, a third finger joining the ones pressed inside.

They stayed like that for some time, Billy stretching his fingers, slowly fucking them in and out of Steve as he lost his  _ mind _ underneath him.

It was  _ beautiful _ , the way Steve would arch and tense, incoherent noises pouring outta his mouth. His skin was pale, a flush creeping from his cheeks down his chest. 

“So  _ pretty _ for me,” Billy was saying, mesmerized by the way Steve was falling apart.

“Bill, I’m, I’m  _ ready _ . I nee-need you.” He whimpered when Billy pulled his fingers out, watching with heavy eyes as Billy took off his jeans as quickly as he could, dick hard, an angry  _ red _ against his stomach. He ran his slick hand up and down it a few times, lining up to Steve’s fluttering hole.

“Are you  _ sure _ ?” He eyed Steve again, just wanting to check in one last time, knowing he was probably gonna lose his  _ mind _ when he slid home.

“ _ Yes _ , Bill.  _ Please _ fuck me.” He pushed in, firmly, going balls deep in one go.

Steve went  _ tense _ , his nails scraping down Billy’s back, legs trembling at his sides. Billy stayed still for a second, letting Steve relax, adjust around him. He had to press his face into Steve’s neck, sucking on the skin there, the heat of him velvety soft and  _ tight _ around him. It took all of his willpower not to let loose, go to  _ town _ on this sweet thing under him.

“Okay, I’m, you can move.” He pulled out, pressing straight back in, kissing Steve nice and messy as he set a pace, fucking him steadily. Steve was whimpering, his cock trapped between them, precum leaking all over their stomachs. 

He had never felt anything like this before, his own hand wrapped around his cock was  _ nothing _ when Billy got his between them, jerking Steve to the pace of his thrusts. Steve’s orgasm was  _ close _ , had been for a while, but Billy adjusted his angle, his dick digging past that  _ spot  _ every time, and Steve was  _ done for _ . 

He cried out as he came, his fingers pressing into Billy’s back, thighs squeezing his hips. He tightened around Billy, causing his breath to punch out, his vision to blur as he came inside of Steve, fucking into him roughly.

He slumped on top of him, trying to regain his breath.

Steve was at a loss for words. Reality had come clunking back to him. He had just lost his  _ virginity _ to  _ Billy Hargrove _ , his soulmate that didn’t  _ love him _ . He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears to stay down, not wanting to ruin the moment, letting himself melt into Billy’s hand running through his hair, pretending that the kisses he planted to his neck, his chest, his face, were out of love, not just some post-orgasm thing.

“So good, so  _ perfect _ for me, Stevie.” Billy was mumbling praises between kisses. “You wanna get back to the party?”

“Yeah, um. Sure, let’s, let’s go.”

They dressed quietly, Billy shooting looks at Steve, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth at the way Steve kept his eyes down, the way his hands trembled slightly as he tied his shoes. 

“You okay?” He gave Billy a watery smile, nodding lightly. “You just seem, are you sure that was okay? Did I  _ hurt _ you?”

“No, I’m, I'm really okay, Billy. Just kinda, processing.” 

“You feel any different?” Billy was smirking at him, figured he was just in his head about losing his virginity, at a  _ party _ no less. If Billy has  _ his _ way, it would’ve been much nicer, there would’ve been  _ more _ involved, maybe a candle or two. Steve seemed like the type to like all that soft shit,  _ romance _ . Billy was spinning his wheels, his mind racing about what just happened, if Steve  _ regrets _ it. 

“Not really, just like,  _ sore _ .” He was shifting where he sat, wiggling around, his face scrunched up a little. “We should, um, we should probably check on Barb.” 

They found her downstairs, still talking to that grunge chick. Steve smiled at the girl, muttered something into Barb’s ear. Billy admired the dark hickies he could see above the neck of Steve’s sweater. Barb gave him a curious look as Steve disappeared into the kitchen. 

She traded phone numbers with the grunge chick,  _ Amber _ , giggling in a way that was so  _ un-Barb _ Billy could barely hide his snorts of laughter. They started heading out, finding Steve leaning against the Camaro, looking at the stars, dark bruise on display.

“You okay, Steve?” The keys were jangling in Barb’s hand, Steve smiling at her weakly. 

“Just, uh, just  _ tired _ .” You took his spot in the backseat, Barb driving. Billy switched the tape, putting in something soft, an old Grateful Dead cassette he found for 50 cents at a flea market in the ninth grade. 

He could see Steve in the rearview, could watch him stare out the window, fidgeting with his sleeves. He was gettin’ real twitchy, a sign he was close to panicking, his brain moving too fast for him to keep up. It made Billy’s heart  _ sink _ . If  _ he _ caused this because he couldn’t keep his dick to himself for  _ once _ , he would never fucking  _ forgive _ himself. 

It was a few hours when they pulled into Steve’s driveway, and  _ well _ past three in the morning. Steve led them inside, to his bedroom. He pulled a joint out of his desk drawer, reaching for the zippo in his pocket, the one Billy had given him after he lost his own to the tunnels. 

He passed it to Billy, moving to his closet, grabbing the shorts and shirt he was wearing earlier, retreating to the bathroom silently. Barb took a hit when Billy passed it, coughing just a little.

“What’s up with him? Did he have a panic attack?” Billy shrugged at her, not sure if Steve  _ wanted  _ her to know Billy had fucked him in some random bed at some random party.

“Not sure. What did he say to you when we found you?” 

“He just said he was ready to go and that he’d be waiting by the car after he took a few last shots.” She bit her lip. “You stayed with him all night, right? You would’ve noticed if something  _ weird _ happened?” Steve re-emerged from the bathroom, looking disgruntled.

“I can  _ hear _ you guys when I’m in there, you  _ know  _ that, right?” They just stared at him. He rolled his eyes. “Basically, what  _ happened _ was that Billy and I had sex. At the party. And I’m just,  _ processing _ it because I’ve never  _ done _ that before. Was saving it.” He was ripping up his bed covers, settling underneath them, curling on his side away from them. 

Barb’s eyes were  _ wide _ as she looked at Billy.

“You two…?”

“Yeah.” 

“Why didn’t you  _ say _ something?”

“Didn’t know if he wanted me to.” She looked back and forth between them.

“Can I, can I talk to Steve for a minute? Alone.” Billy nodded, retreating downstairs. 

If Steve was acting up over  _ this _ , he had  _ really _ fucked something up. Steve had been  _ saving himself _ for his fucking  _ soulmate _ . Well, Billy guesses he  _ had _ , but Steve didn’t  _ know _ that, and with the way he was acting, maybe he didn’t  _ want _ that, either. Billy sucked on the joint still in his hand, went to sit out of the back porch, staring into the trees at the edge of the yard.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Steve, will you please talk to me.” She was rubbing his back through the blanket. “Are you okay?”   
> “I don’t, I don’t know.”  
> “What do you mean? Did he, did he force you-”  
> “No! He kept asking if I was, like, okay and sure and shit. That’s, that’s what made it worse I think. He was being so nice and taking care of me, and, for a second I fucking forgot that he doesn’t, doesn't want me.”
> 
> -
> 
> The aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this is it! Final chapter! Thank you all so much for sticking with me every week, reading and leaving wonderful comments.   
> Might fuck around and do an eliploque 🤷♀️
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr [@yikesharringrove](https://yikesharringrove.tumblr.com/)!

“Steve, will you please talk to me.” She was rubbing his back through the blanket. “Are you okay?” 

“I don’t, I don’t  _ know _ .”

“What do you mean? Did he, did he  _ force you- _ ”

“No! He kept asking if I was, like,  _ okay _ and  _ sure _ and shit. That’s, that’s what made it  _ worse _ I think. He was being so  _ nice _ and taking  _ care  _ of me, and, for a second I fucking  _ forgot _ that he doesn’t, doesn't  _ want  _ me.”

“I would argue that maybe he  _ does _ .”

“No! He just wanted a  _ fuck _ . He doesn’t, he doesn’t  _ love me _ , not like I  _ love him _ .” He squeezed his eyes shut, voice hitching a little. “He kissed me, and I just thought,  _ well, I’ll take what I can get _ .” He was quiet. “Tell me about that girl, the one, the one at the party.” Steve would do this, ask her about things in her life when he felt like he was being a bad friend, felt like he was whining too much without listening to her.

“Amber? She’s sweet. Kind of spunky, she likes music a lot, those old school punker bands that Jon likes. She’s in her first year at U of I and is studying physics, which I think is really  _ cool _ .”

“She, she  _ sounds _ really cool. Smart too.”

“Yeah, you know I like ‘em smart.” He huffed a little. “Are you  _ sure _ you’re gonna be okay? I’d be  _ happy _ to beat the hell out of Billy if you need me to.” 

“I’m, I'm okay. Just not how I imagined it.” Steve was a _romantic_ in the purest form. Had probably pictured it like _making love_ , with candles and music and _rose_ _petals_. Instead, he got a party and a random bed and the thump of bass barely muffled by a locked door. 

“Do you want me to tell him to go home?”

“No, he probably shouldn’t drive.” He turned to look at her, eyes shining. “I’m really glad you met a nice girl.” She smiled at him, ruffling his hair.

“Come get me if you need me.”

She found Billy on the back porch, blowing through cigarettes like  _ crazy _ , if the pile of stumped out butts was anything to go by. 

“He okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. He’s just, he said it’s wasn’t how he  _ imagined _ it. He was probably thinking there would be flowers, champagne, Michael Bolton serenading the whole thing.” Billy chuckled.

“I  _ knew _ he’d like that sappy shit.” He took a drag. “He doesn’t like,  _ regret it _ , does he?” Barb shrugged.

“It’s hard to tell. He probably  _ doesn’t _ , but he has no idea where to  _ go _ from here and just thinks it’d be  _ easier _ if it hadn’t happened.” 

“Maybe it woulda been.”

“Look, he’s not just someone you can fuck around with. He likes  _ tenderness _ . You can’t just dick him and ditch him, and you can NOT leave him in your back pocket for when you’re bored and want a fuck. Being your  _ booty call _ would probably  _ destroy _ him.” 

“I wasn’t  _ planning  _ on fucking him, let alone  _ dicking and ditching _ , as you so eloquently put it. And I gave him an out, I gave him  _ lots _ of outs, he  _ wanted it _ , he  _ told _ me so, I just, I feel like I’ve ruined  _ everything _ .” 

“He thinks you're his soulmate.”

“I  _ know _ I’m his soulmate.”

“And you haven’t told him you know?”

“Figured it out when all the tunnel shit went down. Didn’t think it was the best time to spring  _ that _ on him too.”

“He thinks you’re in love with someone else. That you don’t  _ want _ him.” Billy took one last drag, mashing the butt into the concrete they’re sitting on. “He let you fuck him because he just wanted to  _ take whatever he could get _ and now he feels like shit about it.” She stood up, dusting off her jeans. “Talk to him. Not right now, but as soon as you can.  _ Fix it _ .” She left Billy alone with his thoughts.

So Steve  _ did _ know, knew they’re destined for each other, or whatever. But he thought Billy didn’t love him, thought he was in love with someone  _ else _ , so he let Billy fuck him because he figured that was all he’d  _ ever _ get from Billy. 

_ He breaks his own heart a lot, too. _

Everything made  _ sense _ . The panic attack at the party, the way he got so  _ nervous _ . The way he would get closed off, draw into himself when he had been touchy with Billy, like he forgot he wasn’t  _ allowed _ to touch him. And the way he  _ painted  _ Billy. Painted him like he  _ loved _ him.

Billy felt like a  _ fucking idiot _ . He had waited  _ so long  _ making sure Steve was okay, not wanting to tell him, that he had ultimately just hurt Steve  _ more _ . He went inside, slumping on the big couch in the sitting room, spending the rest of the night just dozing, wallowing in his own self-hatred. 

Steve couldn’t sleep. His skin was itching, the places Billy touched him so gently left a phantom heat along his body. He rolled out of bed, clumsily putting on his slumpy overalls, heading to his studio. He lost himself, let the sun rise around him. He painted without focus, not really realizing  _ what _ he was working on, adding layers, colors. 

It wasn’t until it had long been morning, the sun fully in the sky, that he stepped back, looking at the piece. 

It was Billy, the image captured from their night together, painted from Steve’s point of view. He was kneeling, shirt off, between Steve’s legs, one hand out of sight below his hips, the other hand linked with Steve’s. Steve’s dick was hard between his legs, red and leaking on his stomach. Billy’s eyes were  _ dark _ , staring at Steve. 

“You dabbling in porn now, Pretty Boy?” Steve turned around at his voice, eyes wild as he tried to step in front of the canvas, blocking it as best he can.

Billy’s clothes were rumpled, his hair messy and wild. 

“I just, uh, I didn’t even realize what I was, was doing.” He was flushed as Billy came towards him, taking him by the upper arms, moving him out of the way to study the canvas. 

“I like the way you paint me.” He was taking in the whole scene, Steve was fidgeting, playing with the chest pocket of his overalls. His hands were covered in paint, the same smears of color on Billy’s. He shoved them into the pockets at his sides. “You always paint me real soft.” He took up a brush, dipped it in the mess of mixed colors on the palate sitting on the table next to the easel. He turned to Steve, smearing the paint on his cheek, just underneath his glasses. “You always paint me like you love me.” 

Steve’s breath hitched as the paint bloomed on Billy’s own cheek. He came in  _ close _ , his lips at Steve’s ear. 

“What was unforeseen is now a bird orbiting this field.   
What wasn’t a possibility is present in our arms.   
It shall be and it begins with you.

Our often-misunderstood kind of love deems dangerous.   
How it frightens and confounds and enrages.   
How strange, unfamiliar.

Our love carries all those and the contrary.   
It is most incandescent.

So, I vow to be brave.   
Clear a path through jungles of shame and doubt and fear.   
I’m done with silence. I proclaim.   
It shall be and it sings from within.

Truly we are enraptured   
With Whitmanesque urge and urgency.

I vow to love in all seasons.   
When you’re summer, I’m watermelon balled up in a sky-blue bowl.   
When I’m autumn, you’re foliage ablaze in New England.   
When in winter, I am the tender scarf of warm mercies.   
When in spring, you are the bourgeoning buds.

I vow to love you in all places.   
High plains, prairies, hills and lowlands.   
In our dream-laden bed,   
Cradled in the nest   
Of your neck.   
Deep in the plum.

It shall be and it flows with you.   
We’ll leap over the waters and barbaric rooftops.

You embrace my resilient metropolis.   
I adore your nourishing wilderness.

I vow to love you in primal ways.   
I vow to love you in infinite forms.

In our separateness and composites.   
To dust and stars and the ever after.

Intrepid travelers, lovers, and family   
We have arrived.

Look. The bird has come home to roost.”

Steve was  _ shaking _ . He had dreamed about hearing this silky voice whispering to him, the poetry so often on his skin, murmured to him. Billy’s hands came up, cupping his jaw. 

“I, I paint you like I love you, be-because I  _ do _ . I  _ love you _ , Billy.” His eyes were wide, his hands trembling against Billy’s forearms.

“Good. I love you, Sweet Thing. I love you so  _ fucking much _ .” Steve let out a sound like a sob when they finally kissed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry my head was so  _ far _ up my ass. I wanted to tell you I knew I just, I didn’t know  _ how _ .”

“I, I thought you loved someone  _ else _ , the, the poems, I thought they were about someone  _ else _ .”

“It’s always been  _ you _ , Stevie.” They came back together, Billy laughing into the kiss as Steve cried. “Even before I knew it  _ was _ you, I  _ knew  _ it was you.” Steve laughed, a crinkly sound through his tears. 

“That makes no  _ sense _ , Bill.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cannot write poetry to save my life, so the poem Billy says is Vows (for a gay wedding) by Joseph O. Legaspi


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve giggled into Billy’s lips.   
> He was leaning uncomfortably over the center console in Billy’s car, nearly in Billy’s lap as they made out.   
> “You know, when I first saw you, I noticed your car first.” Billy pulled back, planting a kiss to Steve’s nose.  
> “‘Course you did. Literally couldn’t have done it the other way around.” Steve slapped Billy's chest.  
> “I was gonna tell you about how I saw your car, watched you get out of it, and straight-up told Barb I was gonna get railed in this car one day, but you know what, you don’t deserve to rail me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I reread this fic and thought she deserved one last chapter. Pretty much all porn lol.  
> This takes place a couple years after the final chapter :)
> 
> -
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr [@yikesharringrove](https://yikesharringrove.tumblr.com/)!

Steve giggled into Billy’s lips. 

He was leaning uncomfortably over the center console in Billy’s car, nearly in Billy’s lap as they made out. 

“You know, when I first saw you, I noticed your car first.” Billy pulled back, planting a kiss to Steve’s nose.

“‘Course you did. Literally couldn’t have done it the other way around.” Steve slapped Billy's chest.

“I  _ was _ gonna tell you about how I saw your car, watched you get out of it, and straight-up  _ told _ Barb I was gonna get  _ railed _ in this car one day, but you know what, you don’t  _ deserve _ to rail me.”

Billy’s eyes went  _ wide _ .

“Waitwaitwaitwait,” Billy reached out for Steve as he leaned back in his seat. “No, Baby. I’m  _ sorry _ . Lemme help you live out your dream  _ c’mon _ .”

Steve just shook his head, making a show of looking out the window all  _ sad _ .

“I just, don’t know if I can thrive in this environment.” He was over enunciating, using his hands  _ way _ too much to make sure Billy  _ knew _ it was all a  _ game _ . “I can’t be somewhere my hopes, my  _ dreams _ are not appreciated.”

“Sugar, let’s get in the back. I  _ appreciate _ your hopes, and  _ all _ your dreams. Lemme  _ rail you _ . You can tell Barb  _ all about it _ .”

Steve snorted at the image of him giving Barb  _ all _ the dirty details. The way she would mime throwing up and slap the back of his head. 

“There’s nothing  _ to tell _ .” Steve slumped back against the seat, letting his body slide down it. 

Billy laughed at him.

“Let’s go, you little drama queen.” Billy crawled into the backseat, throwing his jacket up at Steve. 

Steve whined.

Billy tossed his shirt up too. 

Steve huffed loudly when Billy’s jeans came next, his boots already on the floor of the backseat. 

“Baby, I’m back here with a hard dick, either you come back and sit on it, or I jerk myself and you get  _ no part _ of the fun.”

“God,  _ fine _ !” Steve crawled into the backseat, sitting on Billy’s lap. “You’re mean to me.”

“I’m literally just trying to fulfill your dreams, but okay. Go off, I guess.”

Steve rolled his eyes, reaching down to wrap his fingers around Billy’s cock, moving slowly. BIlly let his head fall back against the headrest, eyes fluttering shut.

“ _ Just _ like that, Sweet Thing. Feel so  _ good _ .”

Steve shuffled off his lap, settling on his knees between Billy’s knees. 

He licked one long stripe up his cock.

Billy actually  _ shivered _ . Steve opened his mouth, sunk down on his dick slowly, his lips stretching around Billy. He sat up, staring at Steve going down on him.

“Look at  _ you _ , so  _ pretty _ for me.” Steve sank all the way down on his cock, choking on him as the tip of his dick bumped against the back of his throat. 

He bobbed his head, getting Billy’s did  _ nice _ and  _ wet _ , moving his tongue along the underside of him. 

He pulled off him, panting as he jerked Billy off, a trail of spit still connecting from Steve’s lips to the head of Billy’s cock. 

“Not that I don’t  _ love _ riding your cock, but I’m  _ pretty sure _ , my idea was to get  _ railed _ , not  _ do all the work _ .” Billy rolled his eyes. 

“ _ Fine _ , then.” Billy pushed him back. “Get the fuckin’ lube and get naked, then.” Steve leaned over the center console to dig through the glove compartment. 

Billy leaned forward, reaching around Steve’s waist to undo his belt, tug down his jeans. 

“Can you  _ wait _ , like,  _ five seconds _ ?” Billy bit his asscheek, made Steve yelp.

“Takin’ forever.” Steve slumped back into the seat next to Billy, wiggling out of his jeans, tossing his shirt on the floor with them. He slapped the bottle of lube into Billy’s chest, laying back along the bench seats, one leg tossed over the back, the other planted on the floor of the car, legs spread for Billy. 

He bucked his hips, raising an eyebrow at Billy.

“Get a move on.”

BIlly moved quickly, spreading himself over Steve, planted between his legs. 

“You’re bein’ so damn  _ bossy _ tonight.” He ground their hips together. “So damn  _ needy _ .”

“I just  _ want you _ , Bill.” Oh, so  _ now _ he was being all sweet, now that BIlly had three slicked up fingers prodding at his hole. 

Steve gasped as one pressed inside. 

He gave so easily these days, used to Billy spreading him open. 

Billy worked the finger in and out of him, pressing against his walls, making him whine. He added another, spreading his fingers as he drew them out, moving so  _ slow _ . 

“Bill, I thought you were gonna  _ rail me _ .”

“Gotta get you  _ ready _ before, Pretty Boy.”

“Well move  _ faster _ .” Billy nipped at his neck, pulling his two fingers out. Steve whined loudly, bucking his hips. 

“Thought  _ I _ was in control tonight. Thought you wanted  _ me _ to do all the work.”

Steve pouted up at him. 

“ _ Please _ , don’t stop, Billy. Need it, need  _ you _ .”

“Then no more  _ complainin’ _ .”

He pushed three fingers inside Steve. He curled them up, hitting Steve’s  _ spot _ with fucking  _ expert _ presicion. He new Steve’s body so well, could play him like a fucking  _ instrument _ . 

Steve rolled his hips, fucking himself as well as he could on Billy’s fingers, couldn’t  _ stop _ himself, trying to chase the pleasure. Billy kissed his neck, left sloppy, wet kisses along the underside of his jaw. 

“BIll, Bill  _ please _ .”

And how could Billy say  _ no _ , Steve begging  _ so _ sugar sweet for his cock. 

He pulled out his fingers  _ nice _ and  _ slow _ , one hand trailing along Steve’s hip, feeling the scars on his upper thigh, the ones that matched Billy’s, the ones that came from a ballpoint pen and a nightmare, so long ago. 

Steve puckered his lips, silently asking Billy for a kiss. 

He kissed him deeply, licking softly into his mouth as he pressed his cock inside him. 

“ _ God _ , BIlly.” Steve sighed. Billy pulled back a little, the two of them studying one another’s face, trying to memorize the moment. 

And then Billy pulled out, and  _ slammed _ back into Steve.

Steve’s eyes were wide, his hands above him to keep his head from slamming into the side of the car. Each buck of his hips punched the air out of Steve’s lungs.

Billy didn’t hold back, fucked Steve  _ rough _ , shoved one of Steve’s legs onto his shoulder, holding his knee. 

“Oh my  _ God _ , Bill.” Steve was writhing beneath him, crying out. His back was sticking to the leather seat, sweat dripping down his body. His thighs were shaking, back arching. 

Billy smirked at him, reaching down with one hand to grab Steve’s cock, stroked him roughly in time with every thrust. Steve scrambled to hold onto Billy’s shoulders, digging his fingernails into his skin, scratching along the tattoo on Billy’s shoulder blade, the one with an exact twin on Steve’s shoulder. The one Steve drew for them both, held Billy’s hand as it was dug into his skin, appearing on his own back at the same time. 

“Oh my G-Billy I’m gonna cum.” His hips were bucking, his eyes so  _ huge _ as he looked at Billy. 

Billy smirked, licking over his teeth as he stroked Steve faster, jerking his wrist on the upstroke. 

Steve’s eyes slammed shut, his back arching off the seat as he came, getting spunk all over his own chest, Billy’s hand. 

He clamped down around Billy’s cock, squeezing him  _ tight _ , milking the orgasm out of him. Steve was breathing heavily, his eyes still closed as he melted into the seat below. 

Billy kissed his cheek.

“You wore me out.” Steve cracked open one eye, looking at him darkly.

“I thought that was the  _ point _ of  _ getting railed _ .” Steve stretched, wrapping his arms around Billy’s neck, pulling him down to lay on top of him. 

“We should get home soon. Make dinner.” Steve kissed Billy’s jaw, whatever he could reach. 

“You wanna just order in?”

“Barb’ll give us shit. We got take out last night.” Billy groaned. 

“I bet Robin’ll be on our side, though. She likes that weird pizza from that joint by the bar.” Billy got up off Steve, sitting back in the front seat to tug on his jeans. Steve got dressed, getting back in his seat. 

Billy left his shirt off, driving them back to the little apartment in the heart of San Francisco. 

They held hands the whole way back. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from a poem by Frederico García Lorca, a Spanish poet who was killed by the fascist government in Spain in 1936 for being a socialist and a homosexual. He is one of my all-time favorite poets.


End file.
